


A Very Merry Reapmas

by Ardene



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Crack, Dad Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Doomfist Moira Mercy and Hanzo have smaller roles, Gen, Humor, Slice of Life, background hints of Mercy and Genji, strangely canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-05-05 13:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14619411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ardene/pseuds/Ardene
Summary: It's the holidays in Talon's Detroit base! Reaper and his best friend Sombra (who is NOT his daughter!) are taking advantage of their lightened workload, much to Widowmaker and the rest of the team's annoyance. There's shopping to do, game nights to crash, and Doomfist is apparently coming over to host a New Years party? The holidays can be a pretty lonely time, but as long as they have each other everything's going to turn out just fine.





	1. Merry Reapmas to All

Sombra wasn’t exactly the best at making friends. With a sarcastic attitude and tendency to annoy the hell out of anyone within 20 feet of her (it’s not her fault she was born without a brain-to-mouth filter) people had a tendency to avoid her as much as possible. For these reasons, no one could really figure out how Reaper dealt with her on a day to day basis. Not only could he put up with her, some even swore that he almost seemed fond of her at times. Anyone who pointed that out were usually scoffed at, but in the back of their minds they wondered... could it be true? Could there really be some kind of friendship between her and the most unfriendly, unpleasant, quick to anger person in Talon? Nah. Surely not…

\-----

“Okay, I’m going to give you two lines. Tell me which sounds better, got it?” Reaper said, standing before Sombra who had lazily thrown herself on the couch in his room. She replied with a thumbs up. Reaper cleared his throat, let his voice drop an octave, and growled out two sentences:

“Death walks among you.”

“Death walks among us.”

Sombra put her finger to her chin as she pondered for a moment. “I think I give ‘death walks among you’ a 10/10. It really helps to separate yourself from the team, keeping you distant emotionally and also gives them that feeling of being different, and as you know, people fear stuff that is different. Definitely go for the second one.”

“Do you think it’s too over the top?” He asked, scratching something into a notepad.

“Reaper, dear dear Reaper… you are asking if something is over the top? You? You do realise that _everything_ you do is over the top, right? I thought that was the point of the whole thing?” she got up and began to pace around the couch. “The whole black leather coat, creepy mask, deep growly voice, random lines about death and being a ghost or whatever? You are over the top in literally every way.”

“I know _that_ ,” he said with a snort, “but I still need people to take me a little seriously, you know?”

“Honey, you have most the people here so terrified you could go around blasting Linkin Park and swinging around a Hot Topic bag and people would still run from you in fear. Embrace the edginess. You are _never_ too over the top.” She gave him a boop on the centre of the mask. “Trust me. Use the line.”

Reaper shrugged. “You’re right. Who do you think it would freak out the most?”

Sombra rubbed her hands together. “Who’s coming on our next mission again?”

\-----

“Widowmaker, keep an eye on your left. I saw movement.” Reaper’s voice growled through Widowmaker and Sombra’s communicators.

“Understood,” Widowmaker replied. She smoothly dropped down and began scanning the area to her left.

“Sombra, do you have access yet?” he asked.

“Almost, boss, the system was surprisingly secure,” her voice came through. “Oh, looks like I got in! Deactivating all security systems… right… now!”

“Alright. I’m going to begin the attack.” Reaper switched over to the main mission channel. “Prepare for infiltration. Remember to focus on the east wing and keep that area clear. Go!”

The members of the mission burst into the building. The sound of gunfire and screaming filled the air.

“Anything of interest, Sombra?” Reaper asked, once again on their private channel, making his way down a long hallway.

“I’m grabbing a few documents. Mostly about trade partners, imports, and exports. I’m looking what else I can find,” came her response.

“Backup coming in from the south,” Widowmaker cut in, “one snuck in. I think he’s going to Sombra’s location.”

“I’m on it,” Reaper said, changing direction and moving towards Sombra. Eventually he came across an unfamiliar man reaching for the door to the control room. Moments later, he was on the ground, bleeding from his head. “All clear. I’m returning my previous position.”

“Aww, thanks dad,” Sombra said. “Hey, you should buy me pizza after this. I’m thinking Hawaiian.”

“Dad?” He asked. “Did you just call me dad? You did not just call me dad.”

“But you are _such_ a dad. You’re like, a dad to the whole team. Watching out for his little children. Buying us Hawaiian pizza. I like stuffed crust, by the way.”

“I’m no one’s dad. And no way. Pineapple on pizza is a sin,” came his curt response.

“Okay but is that a no pizza, or no Hawaiian?”

“No Hawaiian. I will not let you ruin your life by eating pineapple on pizza. You’re better than this. You should be ashamed.”

“Ugh, come on _dad_. Why are people always so against pineapple on pizza? I mean, it’s like just a nice burst of fresh flavour, that tanginess and sweetness blending with the sauce and cheese-”

“Please keep your conversations relevant to the mission,” Widowmaker interjected.

“In what way does pineapple and tomato sauce go together?” Reaper carried on, ignoring Widowmaker. “Even worse- pineapple and cheese. Nothing about those two things should ever-”

“Target located. I see him in the west wing,” Sombra interrupted.

“I’m on my way,” Widowmaker replied.

“Okay but like, it’s a personal preference, right? Can’t a person just enjoy something without causing a scene? I mean, it’s not like mushrooms on pizza, now that’s just nasty,” Sombra carried on.

“Oh no now don’t you say that,” Reaper growled.

“The mission,” Widowmaker said again with a sigh.

“What, don’t tell me you like mushrooms?” Sombra asked.

“Yeah. They’re tasty. Have you ever had a pizza with salami and mushrooms? Simple, yet so good. You should try it,” Reaper replied.

“I do _not_ know you,” Sombra whined. “Seriously, that’s just nasty. Just get me pineapple. No mushrooms. No salami. Pineapple and ham.”

“But come on have you even tried it? I seriously think we should get some with mushrooms. We can do pepperoni instead of salami if you like that better.”

“Salami? Pepperoni? What ever happened to good old fashioned, oh I don’t know, anything else? Oh, what about a veggie pizza. Peppers and olives.”

“I hate olives,” Reaper made a gagging sound. “No olives.”

“Okay but what about-” Sombra began.

“Oh my god will you two just _shut up_ already! Reaper, for the love of god, you don’t even eat! You’re hardly alive and you have no taste buds! It doesn’t matter what is on the pizza! Just order what Sombra likes and shut up for one goddamn second of your” Widowmaker cut off.

“Widowmaker?” Sombra asked after a moment.

Pause.

“Hello?” she asked again.

Pause.

“She turned her comm off, didn’t she,” Reaper asked.

“I think so,” Sombra agreed.

“Think we took it too far this time?”

“Nope, never too far. So, pizza later?”

Reaper sighed.

\-----

“We never did decide on a pizza,” Sombra groaned as they got off of the plane and made their way back into the base. “We are doing pizza, right? Right?” She looked at Reaper with the best puppy dog eyes she could manage.

“It’s alright, I have a plan,” Reaper sighed, flopping onto the couch in the rec room. Sombra and Widowmaker sat down as well. Pulling out his phone, he found the number for a pizza place and began a call.

“Perri’s Pizza, is this for delivery or pickup?” came the voice of a bored sounding teenager on the other end of the phone.

“Delivery,” Reaper told him. He followed by giving the address to their base, as well as his cell number.

“And what can I get for you?”

“Surprise me,” Reaper said, and promptly hang up.

“Dude…” Sombra said, her eyes wide, “did you seriously just do that? You put the fate of our meal in the hands of some underpaid kid?”

Widowmaker simply put her head in her hands.

“You know it,” he said, winking under his mask. He put his hands behind his head and leaned back. Whatever was going to happen, he knew it was going to be good.

\-----

 **1-313-555-1798:** Uhh hi your delivery is here I dont see a doorbell

_\-----11:38 PM-----_

**You:** I will buzz you in. Go down the hall in front of you, take the first right, and look on the left hand side for a door that says “rec room” on it in hello kitty duct tape. I am inside.

_\-----11:40 PM-----_

**1-313-555-1798:** Okaaaaaaay?

_\-----11:40 PM-----_

“He’s here,” Reaper said, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“Finally!” Sombra whined. “What on earth took them so long? I hope they made enough food.”

“Are you going to pay them, no matter how much they bring?” Widowmaker asked.

“Sure. Sombra hacked an ATM yesterday, we have plenty,” Reaper replied.

“Can I have some?” Widowmaker asked, perking up. “I want a new pair of shoes.”

“As long as we can go shopping with you!” Sombra said.

The door opened and the three of them turned to look at a scrawny teenager pushing a cart into the room.

“Uh, hi, you ordered pizza?” he asked. The kid looked terrified.

“Pizza!” Sombra cheered, throwing her arms in the air. “What did you get us?”

“Well, you see, the boys and I decided that since you said ‘surprise me’ that we would, you know, do something a little weird? I mean if you don’t like it you don’t have to pay for it I guess but-”

“We’re paying for it,” Reaper interrupted. “Honestly I’d be disappointed if there wasn’t anything weird. What’s on the menu?”

The kid’s face brightened a little. “Well, to start off, we have the ‘Canadian Special’ on top. The pizza sauce is really gravy, it’s covered in cheese curds, and has toppings of Canadian bacon fried in maple syrup. Underneath is the ‘Pizza Salad” which has baked lettuce, tomatoes, parmesan, olives, and peppers. I don’t think I’d eat that one if I were you. That lettuce looks nasty.

“Underneath is a more normal one. Eric called it the ‘Eric Special’. It’s just his favourite ingredients. Onions, pepperoni, peppers, and pineapple. We have a Hawaiian for you, because Mikael accidentally ordered 600 cans of pineapple instead of 60. Which also brings us to the ‘Pineapple Pizza’, which is just pineapple. A lot of pineapple.

“Over here is the ‘Meat Pizza’. It’s a meat lover’s pizza, but to make it extra meaty all the meat is arranged into the shape of a dick. Getting near the bottom is the ‘Everything Pizza’, which has a little bit of every ingredient we have on it. Next is the ‘Make them Cry’, which has every kind of pepper on it, and a lot of it. And last, and also least, is the ‘Disappointment’. It is a piece of bread covered in ketchup, with crumbs from a bag of Cheetos dumped on top.

“For drinks we brought a Poke, which is half a bottle of Pepsi mixed with half a bottle of Coke. We also have a mixture of root beer and grapefruit juice. It sounds vile, but someone paid me to try it and it was surprisingly good. We also have this mystery bottle where the label fell off. I have no idea what it is.

“So… what do you think?” he asked, looking up hopefully.

“It’s perfect,” Reaper and Sombra said in unison.

“I want to die,” Widowmaker groaned.

“Look, I don’t care how much it costs,” Reaper told him, reaching into his pocket, “just take this. Share the rest with your coworkers. Tell them that we are pleased and will be ordering again.”

The kid’s eyes went wide as he stared at the large stack of hundreds that Reaper handed him. “That’s a little, umm, a little much,” he stuttered.

“Take it,” Reaper growled, “don’t make me say it again.”

“Sure!” he squeaked. “Anyways, I’ll be off then. Umm, enjoy your pizza!” he ran out with a wave, money in hand.

“You seriously paid him for this?” Widowmaker asked, looking at Pizza Salad with disgust.

“My friend,” Sombra threw her arm around Widowmaker’s shoulders, “This isn’t all for us. This is for the people at this crummy rundown base too. We are spreading some Christmas joy! Joy for us, that is. Suffering for them.”

“Grab what you want,” Reaper said, stacking together the Pizza Salad, the Disappointment, and the Everything, “and I’m taking the rest out to our ‘friends’.”

Widowmaker picked up the Make them Cry to put it on Reaper’s pile, but Sombra grabbed it from her hands, putting it back on the table. “I need this in my belly,” she said.

“But imagine everyone’s reactions,” Reaper pointed out.

“Okay, fine. I’m keeping half, though.” She slipped half the pizza onto a plate. “By the way, you forgot to use the ‘death walks among you’ line.”

“Oh shoot, you’re right. Well, I can still fit it in tonight.”

Once Widowmaker and Sombra both had plates full of pizza to eat, Reaper carried the stacks of reject pizzas out to the base, girls in tow.

“Anahita!” Sombra called out. A young woman turned around.

“Yes?”

“We bought pizza! Have some!” Sombra said cheerfully. Reaper opened the Pizza Salad box.

“Oh! I love pizza, thank you!” She said, approaching them. She began to reach her hand out to grab a piece, then paused once she noticed how it looked. Torn between not wanting whatever was in the box and not wanting to be rude, she eventually managed to force her hand to grab a piece. She looked up and noticed the three looking at her expectantly. Knowing she had no other choice, she took a bite. “Wow, I’ve never had this kind before!” she said. She tried to hide her grimace.

“Do you like it?” Reaper asked her.

“It’s… great.”

“Good.” Reaper took a plastic plate and put two more slices on it. “Eat up. And remember,” he paused for dramatic effect before lowering his voice even more than his growly tone, “death walks among you.”

He strode off with a swish of his cloak. Anahita choked, wondering if it was actually poisoned. Considering dying from poison would be just as bad as finishing the pieces, she took another bite.

\-----

“I will pay you $3.65 to say ‘Merry Reapmas’ to someone,” Sombra said casually as she placed another ornament on the Christmas tree that she was decorating.

“What’s with the amount? And deal,” Reaper replied, unboxing yet another purple bulb.

“It’s all the change I have in my pocket. I was going to use it to buy a chocolate bar but I figured this would be better.”

“You are absolutely right. Any requirement who I say it to?”

“Ooh, you know that guy with the bad combover? What’s his name, Steve or Sam or something. Always looks nervous. That guy.”

“I think it’s Spencer. Or Shaun?” Reaper shrugged. “Anyways, isn’t he a part of that group that plays Bridge?”

“Yeah. Oh hey, they should be meeting a 7 tonight. By the way, I only know this because you have to avoid the Rec Room during their Bridge games unless you want to listen to whatever awful music they chose that particular week. You can probably catch him then.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that.”

Sombra placed yet another purple ornament on the tree- a purple skull beside a white one. She smirked.

\-----

 **Sombra:** Hey hes in the kitchen getting coffee

_\-----6:52 PM-----_

**Sombra:** Come quick

_\-----6:52 PM-----_

**Sombra:** I think someone called him jim

_\-----6:52 PM-----_

**Sombra:** How were we so wrong

_\-----6:52 PM-----_

**You:** I’m coming.

_\-----6:53 PM-----_

Reaper put his phone back in his pocket and quickly made his way to the kitchen. Jim, as he was apparently called, turned around and came face to face with Reaper.

“Oh! Er, sorry sir,” he said meekly, trying to move to Reaper’s right to the exit.

“Hey, soldier,” Reaper said before he could leave. Jim turned around. “Merry Reapmas.”

His face turned white. “Excuse me?”

“He saaaaaaaaid, Merry Christmas,” Sombra said with a roll of her eyes. She took another bite of the muffin she was eating. “You know, be in the holiday spirit and all.”

“Oh. Um. Merry Christmas, sir,” he said to Reaper, unable to look up.

“Thank you. Be sure to wish a Merry Reapmas to your friends at the Bridge game,” he said, grabbing a cup and filling it with coffee. He waited until Jim looked up, then brought the cup to his mask. The coffee poured down the front of his mask where his mouth would be, dripping all the way down to the floor. Jim’s expression grew more horrified as more and more coffee poured down his mask, down his coat, and onto the floor until the entire cup was empty. “Delicious.”

Jim looked to Sombra is if for help, but she just kept eating her muffin, face carefully blank.

“Thank you, sir,” he finally managed to choke out, before turning and literally running out of the room.

Once he was safely far away Sombra began cackling. “And a Merry Reapmas to all, and to all a good night!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading! This is a little out of season, but I only started playing Overwatch in November so it took a while to become obsessed enough to get the urge to write fanfiction for it. There are 4 more chapters that are already finished, and I will post them once they are edited. Feel free to point out any editing mistakes and I will fix them as soon as I can. Hope to see you in the next chapter!


	2. Reaper (867-5309)

Sombra plopped her feet up on the desk, taking a well-deserved break. She had been in Watchpoint Gibraltar for a few days now. With Overwatch disbanded and the gorilla who had been lurking around the base gone for a few days, there was so much technology and information around ripe for the taking. She had just finished putting the finishing touches on a device that she could use to translocate to other places, and had found all the information she could pull out of the computer system. After a few minutes she took a long stretch, stood up, and began to make her way out of the room. However, on the way out, she wound up hitting her shin on a foldable table propped against a bookshelf, knocking it over.

“Son of a bitch!” she shouted, rubbing her shin. While bent over trying to soothe the pain, she noticed something sitting on the bookshelf.

Upon closer inspection she realised it was a cellphone. Sitting beside a cup of what probably used to be coffee. She didn’t want to think of how long it had been sitting there for. The cellphone and coffee, she figured, must belong to Winston. Smirking, she decided she wanted to mess with him a little. She picked the phone up and blew off the dust. Okay, that’s a lot of dust. Maybe it wasn’t his? And that would explain the fossilised coffee as well, if it was forgotten by another former Overwatch member. But who else could it belong to? She unplugged it from the charging cord, turned it on and was greeted with a picture of owls. Not quite what she was expecting. Hacking her way in, she began to browse the contents of the phone. There was some pretty standard stuff- weather, clock, camera, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram. The games page looked a little strange, to be honest. Opening the Facebook app, she found that she was not signed into the account of Winston, but rather one Gabriel Reyes. Oh. Well now this is interesting. Shrugging, she decided to just take the phone with her. After all, what would a dead man need with a phone?

Back in her motel room, she flopped down on her bed, careful to avoid the weird brown stain. She pulled out Gabriel’s phone and once again turned it on. She opened up his texting app, thinking that would be where the juiciest information would be kept. Curiously there was one conversation at the top that had unread messages. The message line in the next text caught her eye, and she decided to skip the first one for now. Instead she opened the one with the subject line “Every day I suffer. Knowing that his socks are black. It is the Cassandra truth” and scrolled up a bit for context.

**You:** Ana. Your socks. Why must you do this to me.

_\-----May 27, 2070: 6:47 AM-----_

**Ana:** Gabriel, I have no idea what youre talking about

_\-----May 27, 2070: 6:47 AM-----_

**Ana:** Wait do you want me ot take them off? Do you havr a… foot fetish? ;)

_\-----May 27, 2070: 6:47 AM-----_

**You:** …

_\-----May 27, 2070: 6:47 AM-----_

**You:** Ana. Please.

_\-----May 27, 2070: 6:48 AM-----_

**You:** One is purple. The other is GREEN. You can’t do this.

_\-----May 27, 2070: 6:48 AM-----_

**Ana:** Oh? I didnt notice

_\-----May 27, 2070: 6:48 AM-----_

**Ana:** Guess I must ahve been in a hurry this morning ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

_\-----May 27, 2070: 6:49 AM-----_

**You:** Change your socks. This is a goddamn disgrace.

_\-----May 27, 2070: 6:49 AM-----_

**Ana:** Fine. I’ll change them mr grumpy pants

_\-----May 27, 2070: 6:49 AM-----_

**You:** ANA

_\-----May 27, 2070: 8:31 AM-----_

**Ana:**?

_\-----May 27, 2070: 8:31 AM-----_

**You:** I meant change them to be the same color! Not use blue and green. You even used a different shade of green.

_\-----May 27, 2070: 8:31 AM-----_

**You:** You monster.

_\-----May 27, 2070: 8:31 AM-----_

**Ana:** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

_\-----May 27, 2070: 8:33 AM-----_

**Ana:** Hey I dont see you complaining about jacks socks. His nveer match

_\-----May 27, 2070: 8:33 AM-----_

**You:** Yeah but he is a lost cause.

_\-----May 27, 2070: 8:34 AM-----_

**Ana:** Oh?

_\-----May 27, 2070: 8:34 AM-----_

**You:** I mean, he thinks his socks match. He honest to god believes all his socks are navy.

_\-----May 27, 2070: 8:34 AM-----_

**You:** He has never bought socks that aren’t navy the entire time he’s worn that Overwatch outfit. Except ONE time he accidentally bought a package of black socks. I tried to tell him that they’re black but he WON’T BELIEVE ME

_\-----May 27, 2070: 8:36 AM-----_

**You:** So he literally thinks he is wearing blue socks all the time. He is just color blind :\

_\-----May 27, 2070: 8:36 AM-----_

**Ana:** Lmao I think hes messing with you

_\-----May 27, 2070: 8:36 AM-----_

**You:** No it’s the goddamn truth. He thinks they match ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

_\-----May 27, 2070: 8:37 AM-----_

**Ana:** Let me ask him

_\-----May 27, 2070: 8:37 AM-----_

**Ana:** I ASKED HIM ADN HE REALLY THINKS THEYRE BLUE

_\-----May 27, 2070: 10:15 AM-----_

**Ana:** HE SERIOUSLYL THOUGHT THEY MATCH HE HAS NO IDEA

_\-----May 27, 2070: 10:15 AM-----_

**Ana:** WHAT THE HELL JACK HOW AM I SUPPOSED OT FOLLOW YOU NOW

_\-----May 27, 2070: 10:15 AM-----_

**Ana:** MR I DONT KNOW MY BASIC COLOURS

_\-----May 27, 2070: 10:15 AM-----_

**You:** Do you understand my pain now?

_\-----May 27, 2070: 10:16 AM-----_

**Ana:** Yes. He needs an intervention

_\-----May 27, 2070: 10:16 AM-----_

**You:** Every day I suffer. Knowing that his socks are black. It is the Cassandra truth.

_\-----May 27, 2070: 10:16 AM-----_

She stared at the message. What the hell kind of a conversation was that? Is this really the people who were supposed to have saved the world?

She scrolled for a bit and opened another text further down.

**You:** 420 blaze it

_\-----April 20, 2066: 4:20 AM-----_

**Reinhardt:** Okay Gabriel, I am telling you I had no idea it was a weed reference. I just thought it was a cool bumper sticker- blaze the path to glory! You know?

_\-----April 20, 2066: 4:23 AM-----_

**You:** I know. I just don’t care ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

_\-----April 20, 2066: 4:23 AM-----_

**You:** 420 blaze it

_\-----April 20, 2067: 4:20 AM-----_

**Reinhardt:** Come on Gabe, I took the bumper sticker off. :(

_\-----April 20, 2067: 4:22 AM-----_

**Reinhardt:** The meeting got moved to 7:30. Please inform your agents.

_\-----September 30, 2067: 3:38 PM-----_

**You:** K.

_\-----September 30, 2067:  3:38 PM-----_

**You:** 420 blaze it

_\-----April 20, 2068: 4:20 AM-----_

**You:** 420 blaze it

_\-----April 20, 2069: 4:20 AM-----_

**Reinhardt:** Gabriel please, it is 4 in the morning.

_\-----April 20, 2069: 4:24 AM-----_

**You:** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

_\-----April 20, 2069: 4:24 AM-----_

**You:** 420 blaze it

_\-----April 20, 2070: 4:20 AM-----_

**Reinhardt:** >:(

_\-----April 20, 2070: 4:23 AM-----_

Sombra stared at the phone yet again. Somehow that conversation was even stupider than the last one. Losing faith, she exited the texting app and opened up his memos.

There were many normal seeming notes, detailing meetings and upcoming events, details about recruits, and reminders that he would do later if he ever remembered to actually read his memos.

The first one was a shopping list. Wondering what he might have been shopping for she opened it up.

  * Toothpaste
  * Red thread
  * Half and half
  * Milk
  * Canned tuna
  * Approx 1567.83 ft of duct tape
  * Mini drink umbrellas
  * Oreos ($1 off coupon)



 

She frowned. That was oddly specific. And also just odd. Other memos included:

 

Destroy Jack’s black socks

 

Buy milk

 

Say Yes to the Dress episode: 864

 

Fareeha dinner 18th

 

Moira 24th 10:30

 

Buy milk

 

Taxes

 

Buy milk

 

Buy eggs

 

TELL THAT GUY TO STOP PLAYING BAGPIPES OUTSIDE BEFORE 5AM

 

Buy milk

 

She closed the app. Gabriel’s life was a mixture of mundane and weird that she was becoming less and less sure she wanted to be a part of.

 

With not much else to do besides look through his contacts (which she did, noting some numbers) and looking through apps, she decided to see what weird kind of apps he was into.

 

There were normal apps, including FaceBook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, a weather app, emails, Amazon… and less normal apps including at least 17 apps about sewing patterns, an app that appeared to track how often and for how long he brushed his teeth every day, demotivational posters, and an app that adds cats to photos.

 

Sombra rolled over, tossing the phone on top of her bag. This was going to take more time than she thought to find anything useful. Most of the conversations and notes were really asinine. Best to work on it later, when she had more patience.

 

Of course, later never actually came. Shoved into a side pocket of her backpack, she forgot that she even had the phone in there until years later. After finding out that her boss was none other than the Gabriel Reyes whose phone she had swiped she suddenly remembered it. One day she approached him right before he slipped into his room at the base they were staying at.

 

“Hey, Gabe?” she asked. He turned around. “I found this phone a while back, and since it turns out you’re the owner… well I thought you might want it back. I know I’d be pretty upset if I lost my phone. Anyways, here. In case you want any of your old contacts or info or anything.”

 

Reaper took the phone from her and powered it on. It was his phone alright. It felt strange to see it again after all these years. “Thanks, Sombra. I appreciate it.” When they parted ways he began to swipe through it, smiling a little at the old memories. He made his way to his texts, curiously opening the one on the top with a new notification.

\-----

**Jesse:** So I know it’s a bit weird to text a dead guy

_\-----May 28, 2070: 10:24 PM-----_

**Jesse:** Hell maybe you’re laughing at me from beyond the grave

_\-----May 28, 2070: 10:24 PM-----_

**Jesse:** Calling me an idiot

_\-----May 28, 2070: 10:24 PM-----_

**Jesse:** But I just wanted to say

_\-----May 28, 2070: 10:25 PM-----_

**Jesse:** You know

_\-----May 28, 2070: 10:25 PM-----_

**Jesse:** I’m gonna miss you. I’m sorry things turned out this way

_\-----May 28, 2070 10:25 PM-----_

**Jesse:** Now you and I both know we ain’t going to heaven

_\-----May 28, 2070: 10:25 PM-----_

**Jesse:** So I’ll see you around, wherever we wind up

_\-----May 28, 2070: 10:25 PM-----_

**Jesse:** Thank you for everything

_\-----May 28, 2070: 10:25 PM-----_

**Jesse:** Bye

_\-----May 28, 2070: 10:26 PM-----_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will have your regularly scheduled characters and shenanigans.


	3. Shoes. Oh My God, Shoes.

**Chapter 3**

Reaper was interrupted from his game of solitaire by a loud pounding on his door. Two short pounds followed by three long ones. “Come in,” he shouted, knowing that Sombra would just hack the lock. No point in getting up. Soon enough the door opened and Sombra cheerfully bounded in.

“Guess what, Reaps!” she shouted, gracefully draping herself over his shoulders, reaching over to shut his laptop. He made an annoyed noise. “We’re going shopping! Widow needs some new shoes and we need to get some Christmas presents for our friends back home!”

“Do we really need to get them anything?” Reaper asked. “Can’t we just ignore them like we’ve been doing the entire time we’ve been stationed in this god forsaken place?”

“Yeah, we actually do. I hacked into Doomfist’s emails and apparently he’s preparing a shipment of Christmas presents to be delivered here. Apparently the guy’s really into Christmas and got something for everyone. Also we should get Moira something since we kinda set her lab on fire and I still feel bad about it.”

“It was an honest mistake.”

“I know, but it was still shitty.”

They were interrupted by another knock on the door. Sighing, Reaper got up to answer it.

“Shoes. Now.”

Widowmaker was standing on the other side of the door, dressed in a fur coat with a pair of sunglasses perched atop her head. “Also, you two are not going out dressed like freaks. Put on something normal.”

“What’s wrong with this?” Sombra asked, looking down at her clothes.

“You’ll get us kicked out. Something normal. Be at the front door in 10 minutes.” With that she turned on her heel and walked away, high heels sounding like gunshots on the cement floor.

“Fine, I’ll go get something normal,” Sombra sighed, getting up. Waving, she and Reaper parted ways.

10 minutes later all three of them were standing in the base’s lobby. Sombra was wearing a parka and galaxy leggings, while reaper opted for torn jeans and a black hoodie, hood thrown up.

“Why don’t either of you know how to be classy?” Widowmaker asked with a sigh. “Also Reaper, take that mask off. I already said I don’t want us thrown out of any stores and quite frankly you look like you’re moments away from robbing somewhere.”

“It’s staying,” Reaper said defiantly.

“You do kinda look like you’re going to murder someone in a back alley,” Sombra admitted.

“Well what do you want me to do, then?” he asked.

“Maybe you can do a ski mask?” Sombra suggested. “I mean, it is cold outside.”

“Sombra, not looking like a robber? Remember?” Widowmaker reminded her. “Here just- just come with me.”

The two followed her to her room. Rummaging around in a drawer she pulled out a pair of large

sunglasses. They then followed her to the sick bay, where she grabbed a paper surgical mask in a Hello Kitty print. She handed them both to reaper.

Sighing, he grabbed the items and turned away. When he turned back the mask was off, replaced with sunglasses and a surgical mask, hood still casting a shadow over his face.

“Why is everything here Hello Kitty themed?” Sombra asked.

“Because Anahita is the only person who actually does anything around here, and she loves Hello Kitty,” Reaper answered.

Widowmaker took a long hard look at Reaper. “You still look like a freak, but you don’t look like you’ll shank anyone, so I guess it’s an improvement,” she shrugged. “Let’s go. Money.” She held her hand out to Sombra.

“Oh no, sister,” Sombra objected, “you aren’t getting anything unless you see something you want. Remember last time we went shopping and you ditched us as soon as you could? If you want something you’ll have to at least know where we are to get the money for it. Understood?”

“You mean I have to actually hang out with you?” Widowmaker groaned. “Fine. Let’s just go.”

The three made their way outside, getting some weird looks from Talon agents as they went past. Reaper went to lock the door and immediately the doorknob fell off, breaking into two halves in his hands.

“Christ, how is this place so terrible?” Sombra complained. “Everything is held together with duct tape and hope.”

“To be fair the whole building probably cost like $2.50,” Reaper replied with a sigh. He kicked the pieces of the doorknob to the side. Someone would fix it, right? Either way no one was getting in without the knob so it was as good as locked.

“Well couldn’t they have splurged and bought an, I don’t know, $100 building or something?” she asked back.

“Walk and talk,” Widowmaker interrupted, beginning to walk away at a brisk pace. The other two rushed to not get left behind.

“Where are we going?” Sombra asked. “I hope it’s an indoor mall, it’s cold as tits out here,” she rubbed her arms. “Stupid American winters.”

They wound up deciding to go to a mall after all so Sombra would stop complaining. After browsing a few stores together Sombra left Widowmaker and Reaper alone in an upscale shoe store, yelling that she had just seen the perfect presents for everyone.

“And here she complains about me running off,” Widowmaker scoffed. She picked up a shoe off the clearance rack and inspected it, trying to decide if it was too last season.

Reaper felt a buzz from within his pocket and pulled out his cellphone. He opened up the text he just received.

 **Fist Me Daddy:** HOW GOOD ARE YOU WITH YOUR HANDS?

_\-----1:47 PM-----_

“Oh what the hell,” he asked. Widowmaker peered over at his phone

“Fist Me Daddy?” She asked.

“I have no idea who this is,” Reaper replied.

“But it came up with a name, not a number, they must be in your contacts.”

Alarmed, Reaper opened up his contact list.

**\-----A-----**

**\-----B-----**

**\-----C-----**

Cloudy With A Chance Of ROCKETS

Crusty Old Potato

**\-----D-----**

Donkey Kong

Dr. Feelgood

**\-----E-----**

**\-----F-----**

Fist Me Daddy

**\-----G-----**

GOTTAGOFAST

**\-----H-----**

Hon Hon Baguette Eiffel Tower

**\-----I-----**

Ice Ice Baby

Idk She Seems Nice???

It’s Hammer Time

**\-----J-----**

**\-----K-----**

**\-----L-----**

**\-----M-----**

Mr. Roboto

Mr. Smashy Smashy

**\-----N-----**

**\-----O-----**

**\-----P-----**

**\-----Q-----**

**\-----R-----**

**\-----S-----**

**\-----T-----**

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* The Favourite Child *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tumbleweed Boi

**\-----U-----**

**\-----V-----**

**\-----W-----**

What’s Up Doc?

Who Da F Even R U People #1

Who Da F Even R U People #2

Who Da F Even R U People #3

Who Da F Even R U People #4

Who Da F Even R U People #5

Who Da F Even R U People #6

Who Da F Even R U People #7

Who Da F Even R U People #8

Who Da F Even R U People #9

Who Da F Even R U People #10

Who Da F Even R U People #11

Who Da F Even R U People #12

Who Da F Even R U People #13

Who Da F Even R U People #14

Who Da F Even R U People #15

Who Da F Even R U People #16

Who Da F Even R U People #17

Who Da F Even R U People #18

Who Da F Even R U People #19

Who Da F Even R U People #20

Who Da F Even R U People #21

Who Da F Even R U People #22

Who Da F Even R U People #23

Who Da F Even R U People #24

Who Da F Even R U People #25

Who Da F Even R U People #26

Who Da F Even R U People #27

Who Da F Even R U People #28

**\-----X-----**

**\-----Y-----**

**\-----Z-----**

“I believe Sombra has changed my contact names,” Reaper said finally.

Widowmaker nodded. “I was a little worried about you, to be honest. This makes sense, though.”

“This looks like Doomfist, right?”

“Definitely Doomfist.”

 **You:** What do you mean?

_\-----1:51 PM-----_

**Fist Me Daddy:** APPARENTLY THE DOORKNOB BROKE OFF AT THE BASE. SOMEONE NEEDS TO FIX IT. I DON’T KNOW WHY THEY PHONED ME. WHERE ARE YOU?

_\-----1:51 PM-----_

“He looks angry,” reaper mumbled.

 **You:** I’m out shopping right now. Surely someone in there can fix a damn doorknob, or call someone to come fix it.

_\-----1:52 PM-----_

**Fist Me Daddy:** YOU’D THINK SO, BUT JUST WARNING YOU YOU MIGHT BE STUCK WITH IT. DEPENDS HOW USELESS THEY DECIDE TO BE.

_\-----1:52 PM-----_

It didn’t sound like he was particularly furious about the situation. Reaper decided to ask why he was shouting everything.

 **You:** Why are you yelling?

_\-----1:52 PM-----_

**Fist Me Daddy:** OH, I DROPPED MY PHONE. I HAVE A DEAD SPOT ON MY SCREEN WHERE THE CAPS BUTTON IS NOW. I CAN’T TURN OFF CAPSLOCK. OTHERWISE IT WORKS FINE.

_\-----1:53 PM-----_

**Fist Me Daddy:** GRAB A NICE STRONG KNOB WHILE YOU’RE OUT.

_\-----1:53 PM-----_

“I have never felt so awkward texting Doomfist before,” Reaper said with a sigh, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

“You should probably change those back,” she said, throwing yet another pair of shoes into a growing pile she was planning to purchase.

“How many are you buying?” he asked, looking at the pile with conecern.

“A few.”

“GUYS!”

The two turned around to see Sombra rushing towards them, shopping bags hooked around her wrist, dragging an unknown man behind her.

“This guy needs a fashion intervention. Look at him,” she said gesturing to his outfit.

Sure enough, the man was dressed in what looked to be a samurai outfit of sorts, left nipple standing proudly out.

“Are you going to some sort of convention?” Reaper asked, grimacing.

“No,” the stranger replied, “This is just how I dress. I mean it is a little cold here I suppose. But what’s wrong with it?”

“Buddy,” Sombra started, “This is the year 2077. Not whatever year you think it is. Also you can’t have your nipple sticking out when it’s like -3 outside, what’s wrong with you?”

“I thought America was supposed to be warm,” he shrugged.

“I agree with Sombra. You need an intervention,” Reaper said. “Come on, buy your shoes, we’re helping this man.”

Widowmaker walked up to the counter, made a gesture at the shoes sitting on the bench and waited impatiently until the cashier awkwardly gathered up the shoes and brought them to the counter for her.

“What’s your name?” Reaper asked the man.

“Hanzo. Hanzo Shimada,” he answered.

Reaper looked up, startled. Was that Genji’s brother? The one who tried to kill him?” Before he could say anything Sombra struck up a conversation.

“What brings you to America, Hanzo?”

“Well, I recently made up with my brother who I tried to kill a few years ago and he told me about his favourite cereal that he discovered overseas, so I decided to try eating it and it’s really good. Anyways there was a contest on the box where you might win a free trip to Detroit and I happened to win it. So here I am.”

“Buddy, your life sounds kinda weird,” Sombra said, “but we’re gonna make at least your fashion somewhat normal. By the way I’m Sombra, this is Reaper, and that lady is Widowmaker. Nice to meet you.”

“Wait…” he paused, “I’ve heard of you. Don’t you three work for Talon?”

“Yeah. And even though we might be terrorists, we don’t look the part. Just like how if you’re a dork, you don’t have to look the part. Lesson one learned,” she replied. “Now let’s get you something from the last millennium.”

Widowmaker then called to them from the counter, “I can’t carry all these. Reaper, come get these.”

“How am I supposed to carry all those?” he yelled back.

“I don’t know, steal a shopping cart from somewhere. It will be fine.”

Reaper sighed. “Let’s go find a cart.”

“And the adventure begins!” Sombra said, gleefully rubbing her hands together.

\-----

The four of them found themselves in Target, Reaper pushing the shopping cart while Widowmaker and Sombra held up different clothing for Hanzo to inspect. He kept shaking his head no, not approving of anything, until he finally held up a pair of jeans with a large golden dragon on the back of them. “Now this is something that I can approve of!” he shouted triumphantly.

“It looks like a giant mustard stain,” Widowmaker said with disdain.

“Oh don’t discourage him, he’s finally looking at something from this century!” Sombra said, giving her arm a small smack. “Why don’t you try it on, Hanzo?”

“I can’t look at this. I’m going to find him some shoes,” Widowmaker muttered. Reaper followed her for a change of scenery.

In the shoe section, Widowmaker poked around at the shoes, another look of disdain on her face. “These are all so cheap. Ugh, look at these heels. They’re orange and purple. Who would wear that?”

“Moira?” Reaper asked with a shrug.

Widowmaker paused. “You know, I think you’re right. Maybe we should buy them for her. Ask her what size she wears.”

“You text her, I don’t know what her name is in my phone.”

“Don’t have her number. Can’t you figure it out?”

Reaper pulled out his phone and browsed through his contacts again. “I guess it must be either ‘What’s Up Doc?’ or ‘Dr. Feelgood’ but I’m not sure which she would be.”

“Try ‘What’s Up Doc?’. I never feel good after talking to Moira.”

That was good enough logic for Reaper. He opened up a new text conversation.

 **You:** What size of shoes do you wear?

_\-----2:19 PM-----_

**What’s Up Doc?:** …Gabriel? Is that you?

_\-----2:21 PM-----_

Shit. He messed up.

He put his head in his hands and groaned.

“What’s wrong?” Widowmaker asked.

“I think I just texted someone else. Someone who thinks I am dead.”

“Here, let me fix this.” Widowmaker snatched his phone out of his hands and began to type.

 **You:** New phone who dis?

_\-----2:22 PM-----_

“That’s not going to work!” Reaper shouted, snatching his phone back in alarm. “I texted her, remember?” Quickly he tried to do damage control.

 **You:** I mean, new phone number, who is this? I just changed numbers. I was trying to text my friend but I think I remembered her number wrong.

_\-----2:22 PM-----_

**You:** My name isn’t Gabriel it’s

_\-----2:23 PM-----_

**You:** Eduardo

_\-----2:23 PM-----_

Shit.

 **What’s Up Doc?:** Oh haha, you somehow got the  number of an old friend of mine! What a coincidence :)

_\-----2:24 PM-----_

**What’s Up Doc?:** He’s been dead for a few years so it startled me quite a bit, since your number came up under his name

_\-----2:24 PM-----_

**You:** Oh damn that sucks.

_\-----2:24 PM-----_

Reaper began banging his head lightly against the handlebar of the cart. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

 **What’s Up Doc?:** Oh my patient finally arrived, I’ll change your name in my phone and text you later! ^.^

_\-----2:25 PM-----_

**What’s Up Doc?:** By the way my name is Angela. It’s so nice to meet you Eduardo!

_\-----2:25 PM-----_

“Are you done having a breakdown so you can text Moira?” Widowmaker asked, sounding annoyed.

“Yeah, I’ll text her,” Reaper replied with a sigh, scrolling to “Dr. Feelgood” in his phone.

\-----

Reaper and Widowmaker rejoined Sombra and Hanzo, several new pairs of shoes in the basket of the cart. They were pleased to see that Hanzo was now decked out in some jeans and a warm jacket. “Doesn’t your nipple feel much better now?” they heard Sombra ask, as she smoothed out a wrinkle in the jacket.

“Put these on,” Widowmaker said upon approaching them, handing a shoe box to Hanzo. He put them on without a fight. “How do they feel?”

“Surprisingly good.” He wiggled his toes a bit and paced around the store for a minute. “Yeah, these are perfect. How did you know my size?”

“Trust me, I know shoes, unlike a certain someone I know,” she sighed, looking disdainfully at Sombra’s toe shoes.

“For your information these are the most comfortable shoes I’ve ever worn in my life,” Sombra replied with a glare. “Anyways, Hanzo has agreed that he desperately needs a haircut and some piercings to complete his new hip look.”

“I never agreed to piercings,” Hanzo said, a hint of panic in his voice.

“We’ll start with the haircut. Piercings can come later.” Sombra shrugged. “Anyone else need something while we’re here?”

“Does Target sell doorknobs?” Reaper asked. “I’ve been told I might be stuck fixing ours.”

“How would we know?” Widowmaker asked, “you’re the American here, remember?”

“I never shopped here,” he answered. “Let’s just look while we’re here, okay?”

The four of them began to go up and down the aisles. In the family planning section, Sombra began to load boxes upon boxes of condoms into their cart.

“Planning an orgy?” Widowmaker asked, looking at the stash with mild concern. “Please don’t do anything while I’m around.”

“Don’t worry, I’m just spreading the joy of not getting an STD this Christmas season,” she answered, sneaking a box of condoms into the bottom of the cart of the woman beside them, who was too focused on trying to reach a box of tampons at the back of the top shelf to notice. Hanzo finally took pity on her and brought the box down for her.

“You’re seriously sneaking condoms into carts?” Reaper was in disbelief. “How old are you again?”

“You’re never too old for a little fun. Hey, bet you can’t give as many gifts as me,” she said with a glint in her eye.

Reaper scoffed. “You want me to join in your stupid game?”

“What, think you’ll get outsmarted by a silly little girl?”

“I’m above this.”

“You only say things like that when you want to pretend you are. It’s okay, just do it. Try one. See if you like it.” She held a box of Magnum XLs up to him invitingly.

Hesitantly, Reaper took the box. Pretending to stretch, he gently slipped the box between a roll of toilet paper and the side of a cart as a young man walked by, looking at his grandmother with whom he was talking amiably as they strolled past.

“Didn’t it feel good?” Sombra asked.

Hesitantly, he finally admitted, “yes, yes it did.”

“Well, we have a whole cartful to get rid of,” she cackled happily.

\-----

40 minutes later found them sitting in the waiting area of a cheap hair salon in the mall, still without a doorknob. Reaper took out his phone, ready to google where to buy a doorknob nearby while waiting for Hanzo to get his hair cut, when he got a text.

 **What’s Up Doc?:** Hi again Eduardo!

_\-----3:18 PM-----_

**You:** Hello Angela.

_\-----3:18 PM-----_

**What’s Up Doc?:** Did you find out your friend’s shoe size? :)

_\-----3:18 PM-----_

**You:** Yeah, I did. Got her a Christmas present finally.

_\-----3:18 PM-----_

**What’s Up Doc?:** Oh nice!! I hope she likes them! ^.^

_\-----3:18 PM-----_

**What’s Up Doc?:** That reminds me, I should finish my Christmas shopping, haha. Been too busy with work lately. But I only have one person left and he is just SO hard to shop for!

_\-----3:19 PM-----_

**You:** Well, what does he like?

_\-----3:19 PM-----_

**What’s Up Doc?:** Umm, swords. And the colour green. Raman? But he says it’s not like it used to be. He likes ninja things.

_\-----3:21 PM-----_

Genji. That was certainly Genji she was talking about.

 **What’s Up Doc?:** And, well. Okay prepare yourself. So I kind of, well, like him, you know? And I don’t know if he likes me back. So I want to get him something that kind of says “hey I like you!” but not make it too obvious, you know?

_\-----3:21 PM-----_

**What’s Up Doc?:** I just don’t want to scare him away… But I also don’t want to leave things how they are!

_\-----3:21 PM-----_

Reaper leaned back and hit his head against the wall. This was not happening. He was not about to give relationship advice. Anything but that.

\-----

Widowmaker stared at Reaper with almost a feeling of concern. He had been staring at his phone and sighing for the last several minutes. Now he was lightly hitting his head against the wall behind him. She then looked into the salon itself. Sombra was waving her arms animatedly, chattering away at the hairdresser as she snipped away parts of Hanzo’s hair. Her brow furrowed as she watched the hairdresser pull out a razer. Hanzo’s eyes widened. She turned her attention back to Reaper. She had no desire to see what horror Sombra was going to inflict upon Hanzo. She glanced down at the conversation happening on Reaper’s phone.

 **You:** OK Angela, I know it’s against tradition but maybe you should just ask him out? I mean I’m really certain he likes you and I’m also quite certain that he’ll never actually ask you out, because he is an idiot. I am just guessing here. But what’s the worst that could happen?

_\-----3:24 PM-----_

She let out a groan of her own. This was not how she wanted to spend her afternoon. She got up and left without a word, everyone too absorbed in their own problems to notice her lack of presence.

\-----

“What do you think?”

Reaper finally looked up from his phone, looking towards where Sombra’s voice came from. When his eyes landed upon Hanzo, he dropped his phone. “Holy shit.”

“I know right?” Sombra asked, dragging Hanzo to the waiting area. “He’s actually hot!”

“He is,” Reaper agreed, picking his phone off the floor. “I can’t believe you actually knew what you were doing.”

“I didn’t,” Sombra admitted, “I just saw some hipstery haircut in a magazine on the table there and thought that would do.”

“Oh,” Reaper said, looking at the half shaved ponytailed man staring up at him from a fashion magazine.

“Where is Widowmaker?” Hanzo asked, looking around. “Did she leave?”

Reaper turned around in alarm. “I thought she was just right here.”

“Maybe she went to the washroom?” Sombra asked.

“Doubt it, she probably ditched us,” Reaper sighed. He turned on the phone he was still holding.

 **You:** Where are you?

_\-----3:33 PM-----_

They waited a few minutes but there was no reply.

“Well, let’s see if we can get Hanzo here some piercings,” Sombra suggested.

“No,” Hanzo said.

“Good idea,” Reaper said. “Let’s try going to Claire’s?”

The three wandered the mall until they came across a sickeningly pink store with shelves so close together only a preteen could fit through them properly. “This man needs piercings!” Sombra demanded, slamming her hand down on the counter. The woman behind the counter jumped in alarm.

“Okay,” she laughed nervously, “come over to the chair and we’ll see what we can do.”

Hanzo reluctantly sat down in the piercing chair. “Are you certain about this?” he asked Sombra.

“I have never been more sure in my life,” Sombra replied. “Now,” she turned to the Claire’s employee, “we were thinking a piercing in each lobe, and maybe something else. Like eyebrow or nose or nipples or something?”

“Honey,” the worker replied, slapping on some rubber gloves, “do you really think getting anything other than ears pierced at a Clarie’s is a good idea? I can do the ears, but go to a professional for anything else.”

“Fine,” Sombra pouted, “just the ears then. But do both- I don’t remember which is the gay ear, and I don’t know which was he swings anyways so let’s just keep his options open.”

“Works for me,” the employee shrugged.

Hanzo just looked like he wanted to disappear.

Reaper felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Finally, Widowmaker replied to him.

 **Hon Hon Baguette Eiffel Tower:** Get bent.

_\----3:42 PM-----_

Well that was a little strange.

 **Hon Hon Baguette Eiffel Tower:** Where r u?????

_\----3:42 PM-----_

That was even stranger.

 **You:** At Claire’s.

_\-----3:42 PM-----_

There were no further replies. He put his phone away and watched Hanzo squirm as his ears were pierced with pure blunt force trauma.

“Is it a good idea to pierce with hoops?” Reaper asked.

“Honey, I’m not paid enough to care about that,” the employee replied. “You ask for hoops and I’m gonna give you hoops.”

That was good enough for him. Reaper paid at the register then the trio made their way back into the mall. Once outside they saw Widowmaker staggering up to them.

“You don’t look good, are you okay?” Sombra asked, concern spreading across her face.

“Fine,” was Widowmaker’s one word response. She took a long swig from a bottle in her hand.

Reaper gently pried it from her fingers and looked at the label. “Now that is a bottle of Vodka,” he said, concerned not only by the size of the bottle but also how much had been drunk from it. “Why don’t you sit down, and we will get you some water,” he suggested, gesturing at a bench.

“I’m fine,” she said, snatching the bottle back. “Hey Sombra, there’s a mall Santa. Why don’t you sit on Santa’s lap?” she said, letting out an eerily sinister laugh.

“I think I’m a little old for that,” Sombra replied with a nervous laugh of her own.

“Oh come on, you look like a teenager! Just do it! Or are you scared?” Widowmaker asked, taking another swig.

“Well, I guess I’ve never sat on Santa’s lap before,” Sombra said quietly.

“Hey if you want to do it go ahead,” Reaper assured her, “we won’t judge.”

Sombra bounced up and down a little, trying to decide. “I mean, I was orphaned at a young age, and we never got a chance at the orphanage, then when I joined a gang I didn’t want them to think I was childish, you know? Then I just lost the opportunity and-”

Reaper put his hand on her shoulder, making her stop out of surprise. “Just do it. Sit on Santa’s lap”.

Sombra nodded.

“That’s the spirit!” Widowmaker yelled, slapping her on the back. “Come on, losers.” She led the way to where she had seen the Santa.

\-----

Santa’s Workshop, as the area was labelled in red and green glitter, was filled with the sounds of children laughing, bells ringing and parents chatting as they waited in line to sit on Santa’s knee, every child eager for the opportunity to tell him exactly what they wanted for Christmas. Of course, this meant that the Talon trio plus Hanzo created a little bit of contrast to the general aesthetic.

Instead of children’s laughter the group had Widowmaker’s drunk cackling, Sombra and Reaper were bickering over the correct way to make an omelette, and Hanzo’s general broodiness brought down the happy atmosphere by a few degrees. Finally they made their way to the start of the line.

Widowmaker was the first to jump onto Santa’s lap.

“Ho ho OH!” he cried as the grown woman slammed down onto him. “What do you want for Christmas?” he croaked out.

“I want a new sniper rifle,” she breathed onto his neck, “and a new pair of shoes. No, fifty pairs of shoes. So many shoes. And so many guns, and also-”

“One gift per person,” Reaper said, dragging her by her arm off Santa’s lap. She made a sound as she gracelessly fell onto the floor. She slowly got up and staggered to the side, glaring at Reaper.

“Oh no, I just realised I don’t know what to ask for,” Sombra said, a bit of panic wafting over her.

“Here, Hanzo go next, then,” Reaper said, pushing Hanzo towards the Santa. Hanzo looked at him, an expression on his face that said “you’re kidding me, right?”. Reluctantly, he sat down.

“And what do you-” Santa started.

“Redemption.”

Santa stared at Hanzo. Hanzo stared at Santa.

After a long, awkward moment, the Santa finally whispered, “I don’t know what to do for you.”

“Then I suppose I must redeem myself.” Hanzo got off of Santa’s lap and moved to stand beside Widowmaker.

“Ready?” Reaper asked Sombra.

“I think so!” She clapped her hands together, took a deep breath, then walked over to sit on Santa’s knee.

“What do you want for Christmas, little girl?” Santa asked, bringing his arm around to hold her in place.

“Umm, just so you know, you are grabbing my boob,” she said, trying to push his hand downwards.

“Such a feisty little girl,” he breathed on her neck, “and I know feisty girls are usually quite naughty.” He bent over and took a long sniff of her hair.

“What the hell?” she screamed.

Suddenly, Reaper flew over, punching the mall Santa in the face. Children began screaming and crying, parents began yelling and ushering their kids away. At least one elf fainted from panic, and another ran off to get mall security. Reaper and Santa were tangled on the floor, fists flying in every direction. Hanzo tried to console Sombra while Widowmaker laughed at the whole situation. Finally, mall security came and managed to break the two men apart.

“Don’t you dare even look at my daughter ever again!” Reaper screamed at him, held back by two security officers.

“Who do you think you are, attacking an old man?” The Santa yelled back, trying to break free of the officer holding him back.

“Look, I don’t care who started it,” yelled one of the officers, “all of you are banned from this mall! Now I suggest you leave before the police come and you get sent to jail!”

Reluctantly, the mall Santa began ripping off parts of his costume, muttering to himself as he packed up his belongings. Reaper grabbed the cart, gripping the handle so hard it was making creaking noises. They walked out in opposite directions, never to see each other again.

\-----

“I am sorry your Santa visit didn’t work out,” Hanzo said to Sombra. “You must be disappointed.”

“It’s fine,” she shrugged. “Reaper called me his daughter and that’s the best gift I could possibly ask for, so I guess it turned out okay.”

“I didn’t call you that.” Reaper stopped in the street, trying to think back. He didn’t, did he?

“Yeah you did,” Sombra said.

“You did,” Widowmaker slurred.

“You most certainly did,” Hanzo agreed.

Oh. Well then.

He started walking again. After some time they found themselves outside the door to a piercing and tattoo parlour. “Ready?” he asked Hanzo.

“Do I have a choice?” Hanzo replied. They entered the parlour, Reaper having some difficulty navigating the Target shopping cart inside.

The teenager behind the counter looked up from his phone, eyebrows raising at the sight of the strange bunch. “Can I help you?” he asked.

“My friend here,” Sombra emphasised the ‘friend’ part by putting her arm over Hanzo’s shoulders, “is in need of some more piercings. You see, he is learning to be fashionable, and he is so close to being there!”

“Alright, I’ll see if we have an opening.” The kid put his phone down, turned to his left and yelled as loud as he could, “Nasha! You free to do a piercing?”

“Sure,” someone, supposedly Nasha, called back through a closed door. They waited a few minutes before Nasha emerged, gesturing towards the group to enter. They all crowded into the small room. “Who am I piercing?” she asked, putting on some gloves.

“Me,” Hanzo said, raising his hand slightly. Nasha showed him where to sit and he sat down.

“What you want?” she asked him.

“What do you suggest?” Sombra asked. “We’re trying to make him trendy and we’re up to suggestions.”

Nasha peered into his face for a moment. “I think a bridge piercing would look really good. You have a good symmetry to your face and it will help highlight some of your better features.”

“Fine,” Hanzo said.

“Do you know what that even is?” Widowmaker asked him.

“Nope,” he replied.

Nasha gave him a look but continued to prepare her equipment anyways. Soon Hanzo was the proud owner of two new piercings- one on either side of the bridge of his nose.

“Well it’s official, Hanzo really is hot,” Sombra smiled. “We really did it, kiddos.”

“I’m surprised it turned out as well as it did,” Reaper agreed. “You really knew what you were doing.”

Hanzo gazed into the mirror, examining himself from several angles. “I’m surprised too. I’ve been stuck for too long following in my family’s traditions I never thought to branch out and find myself. I really like this.”

They thanked Nasha and went back out to the counter to pay. As Reaper was pulling out the money something in the glass display cabinet caught Sombra’s attention. “Excuse me,” she asked the teenager behind the counter, “what exactly is that?” She pointed at the item of interest.

“That’s a doorknob,” he replied, “a dick shaped doorknob.”

“Can we buy it?” she asked.

“Sure, I’ll add it to the total.”

Reaper turned to her in alarm.

“What? We need a doorknob, and this is hilarious.”

Relenting, he paid for both Hanzo’s piercings and for the doorknob.

Unfortunately, once the bill was paid and they were back outside it was time to say goodbye to Hanzo (but not before exchanging cellphone numbers and promises to keep in touch). Before he left, Sombra gave him a box, carefully wrapped in tissue paper. “I thought this was amazing so I had to get it, but didn’t know who to buy it for, but now I see it was fate. Merry Christmas, Hanzo,” she said, giving him a small hug before they parted ways.

\-----

“Merry Reapmas,” Reaper growled once Sombra had opened her door.

“And a Merry Reapmas to you too!” she cried, throwing her arms around him. Once she let go she gestured for him to come inside. He tossed the present he had in his arm under her tree and flopped down on her couch. “Now I know it’s only the 23rd”, she started, sitting down beside him, “but I really want you to open your present now since you’ll be away tomorrow and the day after, so can you please open it?” she asked, giving him the best puppy dog eyes she could muster.

“Sure,” he shrugged.

Sombra’s face lit up. She went under the tree and pulled out a box and put it on his lap. Careful not to wreck the paper, he opened the tape at the edges until the paper fell away. Staring up at him was what appeared to be a Christmas ornament. But not just any ornament- a merman, leather vest open, in a leather daddy outfit. At a loss for words, he finally managed to ask her,” where did you find this?”

“At the mall, when we went a couple weeks ago. Do you like it?”

“I love it,” he finally managed. “This is both the weirdest an most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Good!” she breathed a sigh of relief. “I got one for everyone, of course in different outfits to match their personalities and interests, so I hope they like them too.”

Reaper chuckled. “Oh, I’m sure they will.” He placed the merman on the table then turned back to her. “By the way, I’m not sure why you thought ‘leather daddy’ fit me but you know this means you can’t call me ‘dad’ ever again, right?”

“Okay, papi.”

“That’s somehow worse.”

The two of them spent the rest of the evening together. Reaper planned to be gone the next day, and Sombra supposed that she might as well travel somewhere herself for the holidays, but for now it was nice to spend time together. After all, Christmas is all about family, isn’t it? As the sun went down and the Christmas specials on tv slowly turned into late night infomercials, the two of them couldn’t help but think how glad they were to find a friend in such a dark time and place.

\------

 **Araña:** What the hell, Sombra?

_\-----9:43 AM-----_

**You:**!! Do you like it?

_\-----9:44 AM-----_

**Araña:** This is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

_\-----9:44 AM-----_

**Araña:** I just don’t understand.

_\-----9:44 AM-----_

 

\-----

 **Guinness Aunt:** Did you seriously give me a shirtless merman?

_\-----10:13 AM-----_

**Guinness Aunt:** An IRISH shirtless merman?

_\-----10:13 AM-----_

**You:** Merry Christmas!

_\-----10:13 AM-----_

**Guinness Aunt:** You are so weird.

\----- _10:13 AM-----_

 **Guinness Aunt:** I still don’t forgive you for that fire in my lab.

_\-----10:14 AM-----_

**You:** :(

_\-----10:13 AM-----_

 

\-----

 **The Big Boss:** THANK YOU FOR THE CHRISTMAS PRESENT.

_\-----11:31 AM-----_

**The Big Boss:** I REALLY APPRECIATE THAT HE IS A FIGHTER, IT IS VERY FITTING.

_\-----11:31 AM-----_

**The Big Boss:** MERRY CHRISTMAS SOMBRA.

_\-----11:31 AM-----_

**You:**  :D

_\-----11:31 AM-----_

**You:**  <3

_\-----11:31 AM-----_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are the ornaments that Sombra bought https://www.diamondsofthesea.com/merman-ornaments/
> 
> Up next is game night!


	4. GG EZ

Sombra opened the fridge door for the third time, the light illuminating her dismal face.  Every time she hoped that the outcome was different- maybe she had just missed it? Maybe it’s shoved in the back corner, behind that stack of yogourt? Maybe it was in the side door? But alas- the outcome remained the same. She sighed, closing the door. Slumping down back into her chair, she put her head in her hands beside her cereal bowl. Right now she faced a dilemma. She had already poured herself a bowl of cereal, which she intended to eat and had really pumped herself up for. But what is cereal without any milk? Should she go out and buy milk, or should she try to make some milk using that skim milk powder she saw in the cupboard? Would water work? Maybe it would taste fine with something else… what’s to say Rice Krispies and orange juice isn’t an amazing combination? Who knows, maybe it would be fine dry, too.

As she lay there pondering, she felt a thump beside her on the table. Slowly she lifted her head, squinting at the bright light outside of the comforting shadow made by her arms and the table. As her eyes adjusted, she saw a figure in a black leather trench coat, a bone white skull mask covering his face, a jug of milk resting on the table in front of him. She thought she saw an angel.

“Looking for this?” he asked.

Sombra got up and threw her arms around him. “I was seriously considering making milk out of skim milk powder, Gabe. Can you believe that?”

“I don’t want to,” he replied, patting her head.

Sombra let go of him and eagerly tore the pull tab off the milk, opened the jug and sighed with happiness as her cereal finally began to make that satisfying snap, crackle and pop. She took a spoonful and began to eat.

“You buy this?” she asked between spoonfuls.

“Yeah,” he shrugged, putting the rest of the jug in the fridge.

“Why?” she asked. “I thought you didn’t eat.”

“I don’t. It’s just- you know how I was in Overwatch? About once a week I would pour myself some cereal and the milk would be gone. Have you ever tried to eat Weetabix dry? I suffered, Sombra. Suffered.” He sat down in the chair next to her. “I can’t let anyone else experience what I did. If I notice the milk is low, I buy a new jug. I’ll never forget the feeling of those dry wheat knives tearing down my throat, soaking up any bit of moisture that was once in my body.”

“Descriptive,” she replied with a grimace. “This also explains some of those memos on your old phone.”

“You looked through my phone?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Speaking of,” Reaper reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, turning it on, “I assume this is your doing?”

Sombra peered at his lock screen, which had a wallpaper that featured My Little Pony with the caption ‘Friendship is Magic!’ at the bottom. “You like it?” she asked, “It’s to remind you to think of your friends and actually take your phone with you when you go away,” she pouted.

“It was three days, Sombra.”

“Three days I spent drinking alone in a bar with some weird cowboy guy who played Shania Twain songs over and over again on the jukebox until I told him I would slit his throat in his sleep.”

Reaper thought for a moment before quietly saying, “Next time let’s spend Christmas together. Mine wasn’t great either.”

The door to the kitchen burst open and several Talon agents strolled in, chatting with each other as they began to load food into the fridge.

“Wow, having a party?” Sombra asked, trying to throw a dry Rice Krispie sitting on the table down the plumber crack of someone stuffing some dip into the bottom of the fridge.

“Oh, uh, it’s just for board game night,” One agent answered sheepishly.

Sombra perked up. “Board game night? Awesome! What time?”

The agents glanced at each other. Obviously they did not intend for her to join. One of them looked at Reaper with pleading eyes, presumably asking him to find a reason for her not to join.

“After supper, I hope,” Reaper said, looking that agent dead in the eye, “since I have a conference call at 5.”

The agent’s shoulders slumped, defeated. “Sure thing, we’re starting at 7. I guess we’ll see you both there?”

“Absolutely!” Sombra said with a huge smile on her face. She couldn’t wait!

\-----

**¯\\_(** **ツ)_/¯:** Sombra I am about to scream. This meeting is going nowhere. Maximilien just said the same thing for the 6th time. I’ve been counting. Send help. Or a gun.

_\-----5:36 PM-----_

**You:** Lmao youll get through it Gabe. I believe in you

_\-----5:36 PM-----_

**¯\\_(** **ツ)_/¯:** Sanjay just started showing his vacation photos. Why. Why do this to me.

_\-----5:48 PM-----_

**You:** Oh now THAT is just evil

_\-----5:48 PM-----_

**You:** Even for a member of an evil organisation like this

_\-----5:48 PM-----_

**¯\\_(** **ツ)_/¯:** I now know more about his nieces and nephews than I ever wanted to know. Why does everyone else seem interested about this? Even Moira is egging him on asking for good spots for surfing!

_\-----5:53 PM-----_

**You:** Want me to try to save you?

_\-----5:53 PM-----_

**¯\\_(** **ツ)_/¯:** YES

_\-----5:53 PM-----_

Sombra cracked her knuckles. Her best friend needed her help. They needed to get off the topic of vacations if they were to finish their call before 7. With a bit of quick thinking and leaning over Reaper to hack into his machine, she managed to take over the video part of the conference. Suddenly pictures that Sanjay was showing them on a slideshow was replaced by a stream of a darts tournament. Reaper gave her a thumbs up as she left, her blowing a kiss to him in return at the door.

She flopped down onto her bed back in her room and feeling her phone buzz, opened up her new text.

**¯\\_(** **ツ)_/¯:** Why the darts, by the way?

_\-----5:59 PM-----_

**You:** I just set it to stream whatevers showing on the tv in the rec room

_\-----5:59 PM-----_

**¯\\_(** **ツ)_/¯:** Who watches darts? Anyways everyone’s cursing and trying to get back to the photos and it’s kinda hilarious so thanks.

_\-----5:59 PM-----_

**You:** Any time!

_\-----5:59 PM-----_

For a while Sombra’s phone was quiet. She still had an hour until game night started. Throwing on the hoodie Reaper made her for Christmas (purple, with her skull symbol printed on the front in white ink) she snuggled into her bed and opened up Netflix. Just as her episode was ending and the next was about to start, she felt her phone buzz again. She paused the autoplay and opened her phone up.

**¯\\_(** **ツ)_/¯:** Oh God Sombra, why is it playing porn now?!

_\-----6:28 PM-----_

**You:**??????????

_\-----6:28 PM-----_

Well that wasn’t good.

**¯\\_(** **ツ)_/¯:** Are you telling me you didn’t do this?

_\-----6:28 PM-----_

**You:** No… theres srsly porn playing? I guess someone must be watching porn on the rec room tv lmao

_\-----6:28 PM-----_

**¯\\_(** **ツ)_/¯:** I mean I was kinda hoping that we could get off the topic of darts since apparently Doomfist is really into darts for some reason, but this is just awkward. I also got to hear the words “she has exquisite breasts” come from the mouth of a coworker and I just never needed that in my life.

_\-----6:29 PM-----_

**You:** Im so sorry

_\-----6:29 PM-----_

**¯\\_(** **ツ)_/¯:** Oh hey, we’re ending the call. Sweet.

_\-----6:33 PM-----_

**You:** Mission accomplished I guess?

_\-----6:33 PM-----_

Well somehow Reaper had been freed from his torment and Sombra still had time for one more episode before game night began. She made a mental note to never touch the rec room remote ever again, and clicked on the next episode.

\-----

It was 6:58 and Reaper and Sombra stood outside the rec room door, Widowmaker unwillingly in tow.

“Did you do that?” Reaper asked, staring at the sign. The Hello Kitty duct tape that once read “Rec Room” had been altered to now read “Rekt Room”.

“Why do you always blame me?” Sombra asked.

“Because you’re usually the culprit.”

“Touché.”

“Let’s just get this over with,” Widowmaker sighed, becoming the first of the three to enter. Upon her entrance a couple people looked up, but most agents continued chatting and setting up. Sombra entered next, after taking a moment to argue to Reaper that “no, rekt is not an outdated meme and absolutely has a place here and that you just need to lighten _up,_ Gabe”. When she came in the chatter immediately died down to half of what it was. People were looking at each other uneasily.

Finally, when Reaper entered after sending Mercy a quick message to say “Help, I’m going to a board game night. Do you offer assisted suicides?” he entered the room as well. The talking stopped completely.

“Wow, what is this, a funeral?” he asked.

“It can be, if you want it to,” an agent said meekly.

Reaper resisted putting his head in his hand.

“Oh come on, let’s just get this party started already!” Sombra yelled out, pressing play on the iphone set up in the speaker. Shania Twain began playing. Sombra immediately slammed the stop button.

“Hey, turn it back on!” Someone shouted.

“No, evil!” She shouted back. Instead she hooked up her own phone and “Despacito” began playing. Much better. Some people nodded in approval, not knowing that she didn’t keep her music on her phone and that was literally the only song she had. They would be sick of it soon enough.

“What’s first?” Widowmaker asked, taking one of the only seats on the couch. Everyone crowded around the table, some sitting on the couch, others taking a spot on the floor.

“Well,” Anahita started, clasping her hands together, “I thought maybe we could start with The Game of Life! Something simple that everyone knows, and super fun!”

“Sounds great!” Tim (or was it Jim?) said, pulling it out of the pile.

As they were setting up, Sombra made an observation. “There’s only 4 cars in the box, but there’s 8 of us.”

“You’re right,” Anahita replied. “We will have to play in teams. Why don’t we write them on the whiteboard?”

Anahita grabbed a marker and wrote down the teams as people got together and picked a colour.

Yellow: Anahita, Roxanne

Green: Adrien, Simon

Blue: Widowmaker, (undecipherable scribble)

Red: Reaper, Sombra

“What does that name beside Widowmaker say?” asked Adrien.

“Him,” Anahita said, pointing at the man beside Widowmaker on the couch.

“Oh, haha! Right. Good old… him,” Adrien said, laughing a bit too loudly.

“That’s John or something, right?” Sombra whispered to Reaper.

“I have no idea. I’m not sure anyone actually knows his name,” he replied.

“Ohhh. This makes sense.”

Next they picked a person to put into the driver seat. The yellow car had a pink person. Green chose blue. Blue team put in a pink one, after a bone chilling glare from Widowmaker. The red car put their hand into the bag randomly and got blue. Soon enough all the players were quickly advancing through the game, going through graduations, getting a job, buying a house, and starting families. Things were going surprisingly well until suddenly Simon let out a yelp.

“Who the hell changed my wife blue?” he shouted, pointing at his car. Sure enough, there were now two blue people in the car. “I’m not gay! Was it you?” he angrily turned to Adrien.

“Wow, no, that wasn’t me. I’m not gay either,” he replied, putting his hands up in self defense.

“Oh, we have a wife,” Widowmaker said, looking down at her own car. A pink piece now lay where the blue one was earlier. She shrugged and kept it, while Simon angrily replaced the blue one with a pink one once again.

A few minutes later Adrien looked down again and let out his own yelp, saying “he’s back!” Their car once again contained a blue piece. This time Reaper noticed that his wife was now changed to a man as well. “Yours too!” Simon said to Reaper. Once again Simon changed the piece back in his car. “You changing yours?” he asked Reaper, holding out a pink one.

“Nah, he’s transgender. I’m happy he’s finally comfortable being himself,” Reaper replied with a shrug.

A few minutes later, Simon finally screamed, lunging at Sombra. “It’s you!” he shouted.

“What!” she shouted back, jerking away from him.

“You’re the one changing my wife into a man! I saw you changing it while you put your new kid into your car!” he screamed in her face.

“You deserve to have a loving husband!” she screamed back, lunging at his car.

“Give that back!” he shouted, lunging at her again. Soon they were in a tangled mess on the floor.

Reaper, who had stepped out to answer the door (and buy a few boxes of Girl Scout cookies for Sombra and Widowmaker), returned to see Sombra tangled on the floor, her teeth sunk into Simon’s arm as he furiously hit her on the back with his other arm.

“What?” was the only word that managed to come out of his mouth. The two paused and looked up at him.

“What are you doing?” he finally managed to finish.

“I just really want him to have a husband,” Sombra whined.

“I think we’re done here,” Anahita said from behind her.

“Right, new game! Great idea!” Roxanne said, reaching into a bag of games that someone brought. In her hand she pulled up Cards Against Humanity. “Anyone know how to play this?”

“Oh, I love that game! It’s hilarious and has vintage memes!” Jeremy(?) said, taking the box from her hands. As they cleaned up the old game and began to set up the new one, Reaper felt his phone buzz.

**What’s Up Doc?:** Hi! Sorry! Had a patient in critical condition… wasn’t sure he was going to make it. But we got him stabilised! ^.^

_\-----7:42 PM-----_

**You:** Great to hear. You do some good work, Angela.

_\-----7:42 PM-----_

**What’s Up Doc?:** That’s so sweet of you to say!! But anyways, why are you going to a game night if you don’t want to go? Lol

_\-----7:42 PM-----_

**You:** My daughter really wanted to go, so I thought I should go with her.

_\-----7:42 PM-----_

Crap. He called her his daughter. Again.

**What’s Up Doc?:** Awwwwww how sweet! <3

_\-----7:43 PM-----_

**You:** Yeah, I kinda regret it though. She just bit someone.

_\-----7:43 PM-----_

**What’s Up Doc?:** Oh no!! How old is she?

_\-----7:43 PM-----_

**You:** 30.

_\-----7:43 PM-----_

**What’s Up Doc?:** Oh.

_\-----7:43 PM-----_

Reaper looked up from his phone to see he was being dealt a hand of cards.

After Jason(?) explained the rules Anahita gleefully laughed, “Oh it’s kind of like Apples to Apples! I love that game! Okay, who starts?”

Reaper picked up a black card before anyone could say anything. ‘I drink to forget ________.’” He read out.

After a few minutes all the players had handed in their cards. He picked them up, shuffled, and read them out one after another.

My relationship status.

Alcoholism.

Dead parents.

Emotions.

Crippling debt.

Self-loathing.

The violation of our most basic human rights.

Reaper looked up in concern. “Are you guys okay?”

“Is anyone really okay here?” Sombra asked.

“Good point. I pick emotions.”

“Aww yeah,” Sombra said, picking up the card and putting it beside her.

“This game is less like Apples to Apples than I thought,” Anahita said with a frown. She picked up the next black card. “What’s a girl’s best friend?”

A couple minutes later she held a white card from each player to read through.

My genitals.

The penny whistle solo from “My Heart Will Go On”.

Active listening.

Some god-damn peace and quiet.

A Tribe of Warrior Women.

The clitoris.

Puppies!

“Definitely puppies!” she said with a squeal. “And whoever put in ‘my genitals’ loses. Seriously, what is wrong with you people?”

Reaper picked up the black card. Several people in the group looked surprised that he put in such an innocent card.

“I’m next!” said Roxanne. “’What never fails to liven up a party?’”

There was a bit of a pause as the players considered their hands. A few people snickered, feeling they had something good. Others shuffled their hands a few times, trying to make something look good, before shrugging and finally throwing something in. Roxanne began to read them out.

The entire Mormon tabernacle choir.

Domino’s™ Oreo™ Dessert Pizza.

Bill Nye the Science Guy.

My collection of high-tech sex toys.

Your weird brother.

Genuine human connection.

Breaking out into song and dance.

“I am definitely going for ‘your weird brother’,” she said. “My brother is really weird and usually he would make my friends scream in terror at some point during my birthday parties. So maybe it wasn’t a good way to liven a party up? But it certainly did liven them up!”

After a moment of awkward silence, Simon grabbed the card he won and Jacob(?) picked up the next black card. “This one needs two cards. ‘When I was tripping on acid, _________ turned into ____________.’”

This round took even more time as the players tried to find two cards that worked together, along with the subject. Finally they all had their cards in.

Poor life choices. | 50,000 volts straight to the nipple.

Waiting ‘til marriage. | A sad handjob.

A middle-aged man on roller skates. | Friends with benefits.

Child beauty pageants. | An erection that lasts longer than 4 hours.

Opposable thumbs. | Dick fingers.

A defective condom. | Teenage pregnancy.

A Bop It™. | A really cool hat.

“Definitely waiting until marriage and a sad handjob… actually that’s kind of how my first marriage went,” he said, laughing awkwardly. “I mean, like, seriously. We were in our mid thirties and she had never been with someone before.”

“Please everyone just stop talking about your home lives,” Widowmaker said with a sigh, picking up both the winning card and the next black card. “During sex, I like to think about _________.”

Skeletor.

 Copping a feel.

Saying “I love you.”

Giving 110%.

German dungeon porn.

Vehicular manslaughter.

Harry Potter erotica.

“I appreciate Skeletor, but certainly vehicular manslaughter,” she said, casually tossing the white cards into the discard pile. Reaper claimed his prize. “You know me so well, Reaper.”

“My turn!” said Simon, grabbing the next card off the pile. “’TSA guidelines now prohibit _______ on airplanes.’” Everyone threw their cards in surprisingly fast.

Goblins.

Take-backsies.

Crucifixion.

Tasteful sideboob.

Funky fresh rhymes.

A thermonuclear detonation.

Bees?

“As much as I do not want bees or thermonuclear detonations on my next airplane ride, last time I flew I was stuck beside a wannabe rapper who kept showing me the various songs he was working on, so funky fresh rhymes wins this one.”

“Yay, I got one!” shouted Anahita.

“Alright my turn,” said Adrien. “’But before I kill you, Mr. Bond, I must show you ___________.’”

“Wow, wasn’t James Bond old even when this game was made? And this game is ancient,” Roxanne groaned. “Seriously, some of this is so out of date.” Everyone threw a card in.

 Mr. Clean, right behind you.

Full frontal nudity.

An asymmetric boobjob.

A bleached asshole.

The true meaning of Christmas.

Spectacular abs.

A homoerotic volleyball montage.

“Spectacular abs!” he shouted, slamming his fist down on the table. Johan(?) jumped back in surprise before taking the card.

Finally, it was Sombra’s turn. “’What did I bring back from Mexico?’ By the way, as a Mexican, I am expecting good things.” Once everyone had put their cards in, she shuffled the pile and began to read.

A cooler full of organs.

Nipple blades.

A stray pube.

Multiple stab wounds.

Crystal meth.

Mouth herpes.

8 oz. of sweet Mexican black-tar heroin.

Sombra looked up at the group with a frown. “You are all terrible except for nipple blades, so nipple blades wins.”

Reaper reached over and picked up the card.

“Well they’re true, aren’t they?” Simon asked with a shrug. “Drugs and violence… that’s all it really is.”

“What was that? You know nothing about Mexico! I mean have you even been there?” Sombra yelled, getting up and hovering over him. “Seriously, I am getting so sick of your constant ignorance. Do you want to fight me?”

“Maybe I do,” he answered, standing up to meet her gaze. “Maybe I can beat you back to your country, so us Americans can keep our jobs.”

“Excuse me? Whose jobs? This country was built on immigration! Too bad it wasn’t built on civility.”

“Wow, okay, new game, maybe!” Anahita said, jumping up and gently moving between them. “I know, maybe we’re all hangry! We are out of snacks… why don’t we order something?”

“How about we order pizza?” Roxanne asked.

“I know a great pizza place,” Reaper said, whipping out his cellphone.

“Wait!” Anahita yelled. “What about Chinese food? We all love Chinese food, right? I’ll go order some!” She dashed out the door to go place the call.

“What does she have against pizza?” Adrien asked.

They took a small break while waiting for the food to arrive. A few people were playing Twister, with Widowmaker winning almost every game. Finally while she wasn’t looking, Sombra sprayed Pam onto Widowmaker’s side of the mat. After falling onto her face and noticing the oil on the mat, as well as Sombra’s laughter, Widowmaker grabbed a stick from the group playing KerPlunk and began trying to stab Sombra with it. Her rage was only subdued by the arrival of the food.  

“It’s pretty late, but there should be time for one more game,” said Anahita, piling food onto her plate.

“Awww, only one more?” asked Sombra.

“Well, some people are catching early flights tomorrow. So I think one more is fair,” she replied.

“Let’s make it count, then,” said Adrien. “What should we do?”

“Monopoly.”

Everyone looked at Reaper.

“Monopoly?” Simon squeaked out.

“I love Monopoly!” Anahita cried. “Here, I brought a copy!” She dug through the pile and pulled it out.

“Monopoly?” Sombra whispered to Reaper.

“Hey, you didn’t want the night to end yet,” he replied with a small shrug.

“I love you, you know that, right?”

“I know.”

After a bit of argument from people who loved Monopoly vs. people who hated Monopoly, they decided to break back into their teams from the Life game. Anahita edited the whiteboard.

Hat: Anahita, Roxanne

Ship: Adrien, Simon

Shoe: Widowmaker, (undecipherable scribble)

Dog: Reaper, Sombra

“I’ll be the banker,” Sombra offered. Anahita slid the money over to her.

“You trust her as the banker?” Widowmaker asked.

“It’s okay, Reaper is her partner. He’ll keep her in line,” Anahita smiled.

“No, seriously, why don’t you just be the banker,” Widowmaker argued back.

“Oh come on, I’m an accountant every day! I’d like a day off from finances, so I think Sombra will do a great job!”

Widowmaker sighed. None of them knew what they were in for.

\-----

“We’ve been listening to this song for _four hours_!” Simon wailed, banging his head against the coffee table. “Can’t we just turn it off already?”

“No.”

Simon looked at Sombra. “Seriously, what is wrong with you?” He turned around and called over to Roxanne and Adrien, who had gotten bored around 40 minutes prior and were attempting to assemble a ginger bread house they bought during an after Christmas clearance sale. “Hey, can you guys hit the stop button on that thing?”

“Already tried,” Adrien called back. “Thing won’t work. Nothing does. Even unplugging it, apparently there’s backup batteries or something.”

“You hacked it?” Reaper whispered to Sombra.

“Yup.”

“Don’t they realise they can take the batteries out? Or they can just take your phone out of the speaker?”

“Shhh, don’t tell them.”

Sombra picked up the dice and rolled them, moving her mover forwards 5 squares. “Oh sweet, we’re buying this! Reaper, hand me our dough!”

“Wow, I can’t believe how much money you two have made,” Anahita sighed from across from her. “I usually do so well at this game, I’m kinda sad to be losing!”

“She’s cheating,” Widowmaker said bluntly.

“Hey, what’s with the false accusations?” Sombra whined. “Seriously, Reaper has been keeping a close eye on me! He doesn’t tolerate cheating, right?”

“Right.”

The players continued to take their turns. When it came to Simon’s turn, Sombra gave him a poke to try to rouse him from his sluggish state. Currently he was lying on his back, eyes closed, gently humming “Despacito” under his breath.

“Hey, your turn, loser”.

Simon simply let out a groan. Sombra, in turn nudged him harder.

A louder groan.

Widowmaker, losing her patience and wanting the game to just end, got up, walked over to Simon, and lifted her foot up. Just before she brought it down into his gut, Simon’s eyes shot open and rolled to his right. While his reflexes did save him from Widowmaker, it did not save him from smashing his head into the TV behind him.

“Ouch!” he yelled, grabbing his head, blending in with the sounds of loud moaning that now blasted from the tv.

Everyone stopped what they were doing to stare. There was dead silence from the crew as they stared in horror at the obscene video playing at almost max volume, nearly drowning out the Despacito.

Finally Reaper broke out of his stupor, yelling “turn that thing off!”

Simon stood up, wobbling a little bit, and smashed the power button. Once again, the only noise in the room was coming from Sombra’s phone.

“Who was watching porn in the rec room?” Adrien finally asked the question on everyone’s mind.

It wasn’t long before Anahita burst out crying, saying “it’s all my fault, I’m so sorry!”

After a few minutes, the group managed to console her enough to drag the story out of her. “You see,” she hiccupped, “I came into the rec room during my break today. I turned on the tv, and darts was playing. Like who even likes darts, you know? So I tried to change the channel to the news, and I guess I must have messed up the numbers, since all of a sudden porn started playing instead. I tried to change the channel again, but I guess the remote died since suddenly none of the buttons worked anymore. I looked all over on the tv trying to find some number buttons, but I couldn’t find any! I finally found the power button so I just pressed that and left… I’m so, so sorry! It’s all my fault!”

Suddenly the events from this afternoon made complete sense to Reaper. While the situation was unfortunate, she had saved him from the conference call. He almost felt guilty for making her eat that pizza. Almost.

It took some time, but they finally managed to calm Anahita down. By now it was late, there had been too many attempted murders among the players, and they decided to shut down. The games were put away, the food was cleaned up, and the batteries in the remote were changed. Finally, the people left one by one, and then the lights were turned off, the last note of Despacito ringing through the still air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the last! Get ready for Moira and Doomfist!
> 
> The game of life section was inspired by true events. Thank you to my sister maliciouslycreative for inspiring me (she was the Reaper in that situation).


	5. An End of an Era

**Fist Me Daddy:** OH REAPER I’M COMING

_\-----5:25 AM-----_

Reaper sighed and chucked his phone across the room. Sure he didn’t sleep anymore, but it was still too early to deal with whatever was going on. He got up and began his daily routine. First stop, the kitchen. Reaper opened the fridge door and began to take note of the contents. That creamer had expired yesterday, he dumped the rest down the sink, rinsed the bottle, then chucked the carton into the recycling bin. That tuna had been sitting in that container for a few days, that had to go. A few more things met their end, a few were spared. There was only about an inch of milk left in the carton- time to buy milk. He closed the door. Next the dishes were loaded into the dishwasher from the sink, and he filled a pot with water to help soak off whatever monstrosity was inside. When he was about to leave, he noticed that whoever had emptied the dishwasher had put Selam’s mug right-side up in the cupboard. He flipped it upside down. She would never know, and could safely drink her coffee without worrying about dust.

Next, the rec room. He gathered up any mugs and bowls and deposited them into the kitchen’s dishwasher. The pillows were replaced onto the couch, the wires were carefully wrapped around the game controllers, and any loose games were returned to their cases. As he was carefully putting the cases back onto the shelf in alphabetical order, her heard a voice behind him.

“You really treat these people too well. Someday they’ll find out it’s you doing all this and it’ll ruin your edgy image.”

Reaper turned around and nodded at Sombra. “You’re up early today.”

Sombra walked in and flopped down on the couch, moving the remote from underneath her back to the end table beside her. “Yeah, woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep. Decided to watch some crappy soap operas or something. Anything other than lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. Why do Americans like popcorn ceilings so much?”

Reaper shrugged in response. “Hey, I’m gonna pick up some milk. Want to come along?”

“Sure, why not. Maybe we can hit up a Starbucks and I can grab a coffee.”

Reaper and Sombra returned to their rooms to grab their wallets. As Reaper was about to leave his foot kicked something into the hallway. “Nice shot!” Sombra shouted as it skidded all the way across the hall, through Sombra’s open door, and knocked over a bottle of Vodka that was sitting beside her desk.

Reaper locked his door and came to pick up his cellphone. “I forgot about that.” He turned it on and decided to check the rest of his texts.

**Fist Me Daddy:** OH REAPER I’M COMING

_\-----5:25 AM-----_

**Fist Me Daddy:** SORRY I DIDN’T MEAN TO HIT ENTER YET.

_\-----5:25 AM-----_

**Fist Me Daddy:** I’M COMING OVER TODAY. I’VE BEEN VISITING ALL THE BASES OVER THE HOLIDAYS, AND YOURS IS THE LAST STOP. I THINK I’LL HOST A NEW YEARS PARTY.

_\-----5:25 AM-----_

**Fist Me Daddy:** MY PLANE LEAVES IN ABOUT AN HOUR, SEE YOU SOON.

_\-----5:26 AM-----_

“Doomfist’s coming,” he said to Sombra.

She peeked her head over his shoulder to read his texts. “Oh my god, I forgot I changed his name. What time will he be here?”

“I guess it depends where he’s flying from, since it seems like he’s been travelling around. Well, we have a few hours of freedom, at least. Come on, let’s get you a coffee.”

\-----

Sombra took another sip of her coffee. Reaper tapped his foot, the jug of milk slowly feeling heavier and heavier in his hand. The scanner the cashier was holding made an even “beep… beep…” sound as the cashier methodically scanned each can of cat food. The list on the monitor grew larger and larger. Finally, the last can was scanned. Sombra thought she could cry from joy. Her euphoria was short lived, however, as the old woman in line in front of them then pulled out a large Ziploc bag. From inside the bag she produced a large amount of coupons. She could hear the cashier sigh as she began to, one by one, type in the code for each coupon. One… two… three…

A few minutes later, the cashier let out a loud “oh!”, causing everyone to look up from the broken silence. “Sorry, the ones for the Fancy Feast are expired. They were best before the 30th, today is the 31st.”

“What?” the lady asked, grabbing the coupon back. She squinted, trying to read the expiration date. She pushed her glasses up on top of her head, bringing the coupon right up against her nose. “Bullshit. Why would it be best before the 30th? There’s still one day left in this month.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s what the manufacturer decided. I can’t accept those ones.”

“Why not?”

“They’re expired.”

“So?”

“So we won’t be reimbursed for the coupons.”

“I want to speak to a manager.”

Sombra let out an audible groan. Reaper sighed and finally put the jug on the ground. “I mean… we could just steal it, we’re criminals anyways,” he suggested in a low voice.

“But I want those fireworks behind the counter,” Sombra whispered back.

“You’re setting off fireworks?”

“Why not?”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.”

“I don’t care, it’s New Years. Either we wait to buy the milk and fireworks, or you have to climb the counter and steal the fireworks as well.”

The cashier walked back to the till, manager in tow.

“Too late for that,” Reaper whispered.

“What’s the problem?” The manager asked.

“This woman is trying to steal from me,” the old lady complained.

“Hey- I’m not stealing anything!” The cashier argued back. “She wants to use these coupons, but they’re expired.”

“I’m not leaving here without using these coupons!” The old woman began screaming.

Sombra sat down on the floor, thinking this might be a while. Reaper sat down beside her. They watched as a bead of sweat dripped down the side of their jug of milk. “Is this what I fought for, all those years ago?” Reaper finally asked. “Save the world so people can abuse people working in service industries. So that someone holding a Louis Vuitton purse would rather cause a scene than pay for the cat food she can clearly afford. So that I can sit on the floor of a Walgreens trying to buy a goddamn jug of milk.”

Sombra gently put her hand on Reaper’s arm. Finally they heard the lady yell “I’m never coming back!” before slowly but angrily shuffling out of the store. The manager sighed, voided the transaction and began to gather up all the cat food to return to the shelf. Sombra and Reaper finally stood up and walked to the counter. Reaper put down the milk with a satisfying ‘thud’.

“Hi Reaper,” the cashier greeted with a weak smile.

“Hey, Claire. Rough day, huh.”

“Yeah.” She rung through the milk, and was about to hit the total button when Sombra piped up.

“Wait, we need some fireworks too!”

“Which ones?” Claire asked.

“Whatever has the most in it,” Sombra shrugged.

Claire picked up a very large box. “This costs $80, you good with that?”

“Yeah, add it on,” Reaper said, pulling out his wallet.

“I’ve never seen you shopping with someone before,” Claire said while taking the money and typing the amount into the register, “She a friend?”

“Yeah, this is Sombra,” he replied.

“I’m his daughter,” Sombra butted in.

“No, she isn’t.”

Claire raised her eyebrow but handed the change back to Reaper. “Also please take these,” she said, handing over the coupons that the lady left behind. “Give them to someone, use them, I don’t care. Just get them away from me and for the love of God don’t use them here.”

Reaper struggled to shove them all in his wallet, gave up, and accepted a plastic bag from the cashier to carry them. “Uhh, thanks.”

Reaper grabbed the milk, while Sombra carried the box of fireworks. Together they walked back to the base.

\-----

As Sombra and Reaper approached the base, they heard some familiar voices arguing.

“No I am absolutely certain this is the right address,” a man was saying.

“The doorknob is a dick. There is a hole in that wall over there. There isn’t even a window there- it looks like plastic taped on with Hello Kitty duct tape. Are you telling me this is a top secret Talon base?” A woman argued back.

“But this is the right address! Look at Google maps, and look where we are! There is nowhere else in all of Detroit with this address!”

Sombra and Reaper finally approached them. “Hey,” Sombra said with a small wave.

“Sombra! Reaper! This is the base, right?” Doomfist asked.

“Yeah, home sweet home,” Reaper answered.

“Why is the doorknob in the shape of a penis?” Moira asked him.

“The old one broke. We bought it in a tattoo parlour,” Reaper replied.

“That doesn’t answer anything.”

“So I heard Doomfist was coming,” Sombra interrupted, “but he never said anything about you, Moira. Also you’re seriously here already?” She turned to reaper. “How long where we waiting in queue?”

Reaper shrugged.

“He was going to come alone, but I wouldn’t let him,” Moira sighed. “He’s been having some bad episodes of tachycardia lately, and I’m a bit concerned. It’s come on very suddenly and very frequently, and he’s getting to an age where it can start being worrisome. I want to keep an eye on him.”

“You are overreacting,” Doomfist growled out, grabbing the dickknob and entering the base. “Come on, we need to start preparations.”

“Where is the ‘we’ in this?” Moira asked, “I’m not having anything to do with this party.”

“Stop waiting around and help me carry in our luggage,” Doomfist shouted back, already halfway down the hall. Moira sighed, picked up her suitcase and followed.

“Does anyone else know they’re coming?” Sombra asked Reaper.

“Not a clue.”

Reaper brought the milk into the kitchen and placed the fresh jug into the fridge. Sombra, meanwhile, was carrying her box of fireworks to her room. While walking down the hall she was stopped by Anahita.

“Hey, Sombra,” she said, pulling her aside. “I hear Doomfist is here. Isn’t he, like, the CEO of this company?”

“CEO?” Sombra asked. “Well, I guess, sort of? It’s a weird name for it, though.”

“Oh right, this company has something to do with the military, right? So… sergeant? I don’t actually know any military ranks. I mean, I’m just assuming it’s something to do with the military. This company buys a lot of guns.”

Sombra’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh, Anahita, how did you get this job? I’m just curious is all.”

“Well I had just graduated and was looking for a full time job, and this was listed on Monster so I applied. Seriously, Sombra, I’m starting to worry. What does this company do?”

“Military. It’s military.” Sombra would never tell her the truth. Somehow she didn’t think Anahita would take it well. “So anyways, yeah go say hi to him. He’s really nice, but a little crazy. I’d avoid the red haired lady with him if I were you.”

Once they parted Sombra continued her walk to her room. She set the fireworks against the wall as she opened her door. Once she was inside, she was about to close the door when she noticed Reaper coming down the hallway. She stepped back outside. “Did you know Talon advertises on monster?” she asked when he got near.

“The job website?” he asked.

“Yeah. That’s seriously weird.”

“Not as weird as Doomfist’s party plans. He wanted me to help him prepare but I told him that I have work to do so I guess I have to disappear for a while.”

“Any plans?”

“I was thinking of making some weird party decorations or something. Or dealing with those cat food coupons. I have no idea honestly.”

Sombra thought for a moment. “Why not both?”

“Huh?”

“Make a party decoration out of the coupons. Hold on, I’m going to get some flour and a bucket. Get the coupons out. We’re doing paper mâché.”

\-----

Sombra and Reaper were sitting on the floor in Reaper’s room, carefully putting coupons on the balloon. “This looks nothing like a cat,” Reaper said, slapping on another flour and water covered coupon.

“It needs ears, that will help. Here, I’ll shape some.” Sombra began mashing some coupons together into a vaguely ear shape. Once she was satisfied, she put it on the top of the balloon. “Is that better?”

“No. Face it, we suck at crafts.” He rolled a coupon into a ball and put it where its eyes should be. He frowned at the bulging eye. “That was regret.”

“Just keep going.” Sombra chewed on her lower lip as she carefully tried to put on a second ear. “Is that the same size?”

“No. But just roll with it.”

The two worked diligently for another half an hour before they ran out of coupons. “I guess this means we’re done,” Sombra said, wiping her hands on a piece of paper towel. She squinted at their creation. “Maybe when we paint it it will look like a cat?”

“Doubt it.”

The two stared at it for a minute longer. “Yup, that’s a true abomination,” said Reaper.

“Yup.”

With nothing else to do, the two gathered up their paper towel and newspapers that were protecting the floor and brought the bucket to the kitchen to wash up. Reaper returned to his room to clean up some paste that spilled onto the floor as Sombra rinsed out the bucket. As Sombra was washing a stray glob of flour/water mixture off her elbow Doomfist crashed his way into the kitchen. He hefted up enough reusable shopping bags onto the table to cover the entire surface. She watched with interest as he rifled through all the bags until he finally found what he was looking for, pulling out a case of Red Bull. With his object of interest found, he finally looked up and noticed Sombra. “I’m making coffee, do you want some?” he offered.

“Sure, why not?” She dried her hands and leaned against a counter, watching him work. He pulled out two mugs, and brought them over to the coffee maker. Her eyebrows raised as she watched him then bring over the case of Red Bull. They went higher as he opened several cans and dumped them into the top of the coffee maker. Her mouth dropped open as he then measured in several scoops of coffee grounds. Not knowing what to do, she continued to stand there. Would it be rude to reject it now? Could she feign an emergency? Suddenly realise it’s too late in the day for coffee? What time even was it? Her heart dropped when she realised it was too late, the coffee had finished brewing. Doomfist grabbed a mug and poured it nearly to the brim. He brought it over to Sombra.

“Here you go,” he said, handing it to her.

“Thanks,” she said, accepting it. She stared at it with concern.

“Do you want cream or sugar?” he asked.

“No, thank you, this will be good.”

“Alright.” Doomfist poured himself his own cup, loading in some cream and sugar as well. He mixed it, then took a sip of the boiling hot liquid. “That hits the spot, I can’t remember if I actually slept last night.” He then exited the kitchen without another word.

Sombra looked down at her own mug. She sniffed it and wrinkled her nose. After blowing on it a bit, she finally brought it to her lips and took a small sip, before immediately turning to the sink and spitting it out. After rinsing out her mouth, she pulled out her phone.

**You:** Uhh Moira? I think I figured out whats wrong with doomfists heart

_\-----10:45 AM-----_

\-----

The rest of the day went by with very little incident. Sombra and Reaper painted their cat once the paste had dried, and deemed that it was now even more of an abomination. When 7 o’clock rolled around, when Doomfist had told everyone that his party was officially to begin, they strolled out to the banquet hall and placed it on the table at the front of the room.

“Why does this place have a banquet hall?” Sombra asked Reaper, “seriously, what even was this building?”

Before they knew it every agent in the base had filed into the banquet hall, not wanting to risk displeasing Doomfist. Sombra could have sworn there was people here she hadn’t even seen before. One of them was standing near her, cup of coffee in his hands. She watched as he took a sip and gagged. “Who made this shit?” she heard him mutter as he poured it into a nearby houseplant.

“Attention all agents!” Doomfist’s voice boomed out over the crowd, instantly quieting everyone down. “As you know, it will be New Years in less than five hours. I hope that you will enjoy today’s festivities. We will begin preparing for the countdown 10 minutes to midnight. Until then, enjoy the food to your hearts’ content. And now, let us party!” Doomfist punched the play button on the stereo, and ABBA began blasting from the speakers.

“Seriously?”

Sombra turned around and saw Moira had moved behind her.

“This music is a hundred years old. I’m not saying we need something from the last, well, even ten years, but really. Why this?” Moira muttered, either to Sombra or herself, Sombra wasn’t entirely sure.

“At least it isn’t Shania Twain,” she offered with a shrug.

Moira scowled and drained the cup she was holding.

“Wow, just water? Way to party,” Sombra laughed, looking at the absence of the clear liquid that was previously in her cup.

“It’s vodka.”

“Oh.”

Sombra spotted Widowmaker sitting on a chair in the corner and made her way over to her. “Hey Widowmaker, how’s it hanging?” she asked her, sliding into a chair beside her.

“I don’t want to be here,” came Widowmaker’s blunt response.

“No one does, buddy. Wanna go check out the food?”

“No.”

“I see them pulling out a deck of cards over there, want to join in?”

“No.”

“Maybe we can find Reaper and-”

“No.”

Sombra sighed. “Sometimes you’re impossible.” Giving up, she stood up and wandered around until she finally bumped into Reaper. “Hey, lost you at some point. Widowmaker’s being a butt.”

“She has a big butt?” Reaper asked, leaning closer to her.

“No, she is being a butt,” she said louder.

“A bean butt?”

“Being a butt!” she shouted.

“Oh. Sorry, this music is really loud. And quite awful.” Reaper shrugged apologetically. “What do you feel like doing?”

“I don’t even know.” Sombra picked up a mini sandwich from a tray on a table and ate it. “Wow, even the food isn’t good. Come on, let’s go find something better to eat.”

Sombra and Reaper made their way through the crowd and were just about to pounce upon a table of doughnuts when an agent approached them. “Hey, you two, we’re starting a game of truth or dare! Come on!” He grabbed Sombra by the wrist and began to pull her away. Sombra gave Reaper a distraught look, and he grabbed a doughnut with sprinkles for her before walking after them.

Once they got to the group they were surprised to see that they had managed to drag over Widowmaker and Moira as well. Both of them looked like they would rather be dead than right there. They spun around a wine bottle to see who began. Moira was to give the dare to Widowmaker.

“I dare you to drink that entire bottle of wine,” Moira dared her.

“Oh thank you.” Widowmaker picked up the bottle and began to drain the contents. She took a small break from her drinking to spin a different bottle that someone had to retrieve. It landed on an agent that neither Sombra nor Reaper recognised. “Truth or dare?

“Dare,” he said, a smug smile on his face.

“I dare you to leave.”

He looked at her, startled. “Excuse me?”

“I said I dare you to leave. Goodbye, ta-ta, adieu.”

The agent looked around the circle of people, some averted their gaze, others gave apologetic shrugs. Finally he got up and left the group.

“Uhh, spin the bottle again?” an agent suggested. “And maybe let’s not do that dare again.”

Widowmaker scowled and spun it again. This time it landed on Moira. “I dare you to drink this entire bottle of wine.”

“With pleasure.” Moira opened the bottle and began drinking the contents.

An agent piped up, saying “you didn’t ask truth or dare.” Both of them ignored her. She sighed and got up to find another bottle to spin.

The game went on for a few more rounds, with people having to do activities such as dance to the ABBA music, confess which person in the group they found the most attractive (Widowmaker punched him in the stomach after that one), and show the most embarrassing photo on their phone. Finally the bottle landed on Sombra.

“I dare you to drink an entire cup of Doomfist’s coffee.”

There were a few gasps from the group as Sombra unwillingly stood up. She went to the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with a cup of coffee. She sat down and took a sip. Her face scrunched up and she forced it down. She took a few more sips.

“Just chug it,” Moira suggested, “get it over with sooner.”

She nodded and began to drink it as fast as possible. Tears were streaming out of her eyes, her nose was beginning to run, but she kept at it. Finally the cup was empty. The group cheered. People began to grab her various things like Kleenex and mints to wash out the taste. Soon she was finally looking like herself again. A few rounds passed, and the bottle landed on Widowmaker again. She picked dare, as seemed to be the trend.

“I dare you to get Simon to pay me back. He owes me $20,” the agent dared.

Without a word she stood up and walked over to Simon. Without even doing anything his eyes shot open and he scrambled to grab his wallet out of his pants, fishing out a 20 and thrusting it at the agent. “Here, take it! Take it now!”

Widowmaker gave a pout and sat back down. Her bottle landed on Moira. “I dare you to grab whatever alcoholic beverage you can find. Two: one for you and one for me.”

Moira gave an appreciative smile and came back with some Guinness for them both. The both proceeded to get more drunk.

It took a few more rounds, but finally it landed on Reaper. He was about to growl out “dare” when an agent suddenly interrupted saying, “okay but please don’t pick dare this time. Like every single person so far has picked dare and I know we’re all protective of our secrets but like, if you don’t want to answer it just don’t, okay? Please just pick something other than dare.”

“Uhh, truth?” Reaper asked, not sure what else to do.

“Okay,” started the agent whose turn it was to ask, “who here has the biggest butt?”

Reaper stared at him. What kind of a question was that? Did he really have to answer that? Had he even paid much attention to anyone’s butt? Big butt… big butt… who has a big butt? Without fully thinking things through, he blurted out “Widowmaker.”

Everyone in the group stared at him. “Excuse me?” Widowmaker asked. Her face was eerily blank, more so than usual.

“I mean,” he stammered, “Oh.” He turned to Sombra. “This is all your fault, you know.”

“What?” she asked. “How on earth is this my fault?”

“Because you said she had a big butt.”

“Excuse me?” Widowmaker asked, louder this time. “You were talking about my butt? I can’t believe you two. Honestly.”

“I didn’t say she had a big butt, I said she was being a butt, remember?” Sombra argued.

“What did you say about me?” Widowmaker yelled.

“But it sounded like ‘big butt’!” Reaper argued back.

Widowmaker smashed the empty wine bottle lying beside her against the wall and stood up, holding the jagged end towards Sombra and Reaper. “You talking about me?” she yelled, swaying slightly as she stood.

Sombra’s mouth dropped open a little. Widowmaker was quite homicidal at the best of times, and while drunk who knew what she would do. She hopped up, attempting to pull Reaper up with her, and said “well this has been fun but I really think we have to go.”

Reaper took her cue and together they booked it out of the banquet hall. They heard Widowmaker yell at them to come back, but she was unable to follow them well in her drunken state. They burst into the kitchen, almost ploughing over Doomfist in the process. He jumped to the side, spilling some coffee on the ground.

“Dude, you’re drinking your energy drink coffee again?” Sombra sked him. “That stuff’s gonna kill you someday.”

“I’m fine,” Doomfist replied, filling his mug back up to the top. “What brings you here?”

“Widowmaker is gonna kill us! Crap, do you think she’ll figure out we’re here?”

“Probably eventually, if she doesn’t get distracted first,” Reaper shrugged.

“Why does she want to kill you?” Doomfist asked.

Just then, their conversation was interrupted by Widowmaker slamming the door open, broken bottle held outwards. “I found you!” She yelled.

“Hey now, no fighting. It’s a party,” Doomfist said, gently putting out his hands and attempting to pry the bottle out of her fingers. She hissed at him and he stepped back. “Now, I hear you are angry at Sombra and Reaper?” He asked, taking a different approach.

Widowmaker nodded, eye boring into the duo.

“And why would that be?”

“They called my butt big,” she spat out, venom dripping off every word.

“Hey now, no need to worry. Big butts are great! Isn’t that right?” Doomfist asked, looking to Sombra and Reaper for input. They both stayed silent. “I mean, I like big butts,” Doomfist continued nervously, “and I assure you if you asked anyone here, they would say your butt is perfect. In fact, they didn’t mean it as an insult, they just like big butts too. Right?”

“R-right.” Sombra stammered. “I love big butts. And I cannot lie?”

“This is so stupid,” Reaper whispered.

“What was that?” Widowmaker shouted at him.

“Your butt’s great!” he shot back without thinking.

Their conversation was halted as Moira entered the kitchen, cooler in hand. “Hey, you coming back to the game? It’s boring without you guys,” she said, plopping down into a chair. Finally noticing the tense atmosphere, she asked, “so, what are you doing?”

“Perfect, another unrelated party!” Doomfist said, clapping his hands together. “Moira, would you say that you like big butts?”

“Wow, sorry I came,” Moira said, jumping up and promptly exiting the kitchen.

“Look, Widowmaker, I’m sorry,” Sombra finally said, walking up to her as close as she dared. “We really didn’t mean anything bad by it, and it’s all a stupid misunderstanding. I consider you one of my closest friends, and would never purposely say something bad about you. I was just a little annoyed earlier. Can you forgive us?”

“Fine,” Widowmaker finally mumbled through her teeth. She grabbed a mug, filled it with coffee and immediately coughed it out. “Who made that? Christ, I’m going to go get a beer.” She stalked out of the kitchen.

“Well I’m glad that’s settled!” Doomfist said, clapping them both on the back. “Now I’m going back to the festivities. Have fun!”

They watched as Doomfist exited, whistling as he went. Alone again, they were left to figure out what to do next.

“I mean, we could go back, I guess,” Sombra said with a defeated shrug.

“And get roped into another nauseating game of truth or dare? No thanks,” Reaper scoffed.

“Well, at least come with me to get a drink, then.”

Reaper agreed to that. Together they walked back into the banquet hall and sombra began to grab a few alcoholic beverages. Reaper grabbed a paper plate and began to load up some sweets for her. Noticing this, once again, Sombra thought she might have seen an angel. They were about to head out when a voice cut through the music, grabbing their attention.

“What on Earth _is_ that thing?” an agent asked, pointing at their paper mâché cat.

“Dude, don’t touch it. It might be, I don’t know. Okay, I guess you can touch it. It’s just creepy,” another agent responded.

“Is it a bear?” another asked, giving it a gentle poke. She recoiled, shivering.

“Maybe someone’s kid made it. There’s some parents here, right?” Asked another.

“Oh come on!” Sombra shouted, shoving her drinks into Reaper’s arms and stomping up to the cat. “This is obviously a cat,” she said, picking it up. “This is the eyes. The ears. The nose. The mouth.” As she began to list and violently point at each feature, the crowd began to look more and more confused. “And this is- oh you know what? Forget it! Who cares if you imbeciles understand true art or not! I’m done! Hasta la vista, assholes.” Sombra stomped out of the room, cat in hand, Reaper following behind.

\-----

The duo sat outside, cold air biting their skin. They had set up a shrine to the cat, sitting against a wall with opened liquor bottles on either side. Sombra was licking the sugar off her fingers from her doughnut. “It really is a shit cat.”

“No kidding.”

“What even was that bump on the side supposed to be?”

“No idea.”

Sombra flopped backwards, resting her head on the hard grass. “Thanks for sticking with me through all the stupid stuff I do, Gabe. I really appreciate it.”

“Any time.” Reaper lay down beside her. “Known any constellations?” he asked her, staring at the starry sky.

“Not a single one. Although that one, you see above the tree? It kinda looks like a dick. If you squint a little.”

Reaper snorted. “Actually, did you know that some people say Orion has a penis? Jack told me that once, but I’ve never really been able to pick out constellations.”

“What? No way!” Sombra laughed. “Let me see if I can find it. What’s it look like?”

“Like hell I know.”

“Okay, let me look this up.” Sombra pulled out her phone and looked up a picture. “Think we can find this bad boy?”

Reaper glanced over at her phone. For several minutes they traced out different shapes in the sky, trying to find Orion. Just as they were getting frustrated and ready to give up, a reminder popped up on Sombra’s phone.

**Reminder:** Optimal time for fireworks!! ;D

“Oh my gosh, I forgot the fireworks!” Sombra shouted, leaping up, and immediately staggering. “Wow, how much have I drank? Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

Reaper sat back up, looking around to see how he could kill time until she got back. Seeing a frisbee shoved by the fence, he decided to walk over and pick it up. He then decided that that was stupid, because how do you even play frisbee with yourself? He sighed and sat back down in his previous spot, frisbee in hand. He turned it over a few times, examining it, when a flicker in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He looked up and saw a spider on the wall above their cat, perfectly illuminated by the streetlight. Smirking, he raised the frisbee, took aim, and… missed. Instead of hitting the spider, he managed to knock down every single bottle that they had put up, yet somehow missed the cat. He sat in disbelief until sombra returned, dropping a box of fireworks beside him.

“I messed up,” he said.

Sombra looked at the upended bottles and frisbee lying beside them. “You sure did, buddy.” She flopped down and began pulling the contents out of the package. They started with some simple sparklers, watching the bright light explode from their sticks. “Dang look at those things fly.”

“Is this even safe?” Reaper asked. “Aren’t we in the middle of a bad drought?”

“Don’t worry, old man,” Sombra said clapping her hand on his back. “Just let the partying spirit pull you through.”

He shrugged. What was the worse that could happen?

Of course, the worst did happen. Just as Sombra was about to shoot off one of the biggest fireworks there, a bug landed on her face. This caused her to scream, and run to the side, knocking over the firework. Instead of going up in the air, it went straight ahead. They watched in what felt like slow motion as the rocket hurtled towards their cat, hitting it dead on. The paper mâché and pool of alcohol instantly caught fire, which caught onto the dead grass and ivy hanging on the wall, which quickly began to spread to the rest of the building.

Finally Reaper managed to pull himself out of his stupor, ran inside the building yelling “Fire! There’s a fire! Call 911!”

All the agents were evacuated safely, but the same state of safety could not be said for the building. Some agents were sad, lamenting the loss of their personal belongings inside. Some were neutral, saying oh well, at least we made it out alive. Others were happy, shouting “good riddance to that piece of crap!” When it was time for Sombra to be interviewed for the cause of the fire all she could say was, “I don’t know, it just happened. It was a poorly built building, after all.”

As the police officer walked away to talk to another agent, Moira approached her. “You were outside. You must have seen what happened, right?”

“Well, you see, the thing is,” Sombra leaned into her ear, cupping her hands around her mouth to whisper, “Reaper and I may have accidentally burned it down. With fireworks. Don’t tell the others, some people are really upset.”

Moira gave out a little chuckle. Which turned out into a hearty laugh. Which eventually evolved into a wheezing with tears coming out of her eyes. “What is with you two?” She finally choked out. “Seriously, what is with you two. And you know what? I’m not even angry about the fire in my lab anymore. You saved me from this awful party, and now I know that I can count on you for any unintended arson in the future.” With a final chuckle before walking away she said, “Sombra, never change.”

She sat down on the curb, trying to figure Moira out. A figure sat down beside her and she saw that it was Reaper.

“Next time let’s get a base in Hawaii or New York or something,” Sombra said, looking up at the stars.

“Knowing Talon, they’ll probably put us in the middle of nowhere in Arkansas or something.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Sombra sighed. “Still, it’s been kinda fun living in America. And at least we were stuck here together.”

“True that.” Reaper held his hand up for a fist bump, which she eagerly returned.

A shadow fell over them and they looked up to see Doomfist had approached. “It might be a while until we have an American base up and running again. For now everyone should return to Venice or just go on vacation. I will send notice once we have a new location. The mission can reconvene then.” He walked away to give the news to another group of agents.

“Vacation time?” Reaper asked.

“Vacation time,” Sombra agreed. “Wanna check out Blizzard World? I’ve never been there.”

“I would love to go,” Reaper agreed. “I’m going to book us a flight,” he said, pulling out his phone. He turned it on and realised “hey, Sombra? It’s two minutes until midnight.”

Her eyes flew open. “Oh man, we can’t miss the countdown! Hey, guys!” she shouted as loud as she could, “Two minute until midnight!”

The agents moved closer to each other, all now a part of one group. Anyone with their phone on them pulled out a date and time website, counting down the seconds. Finally 10 seconds until midnight, they all counted down in unison.

“Happy New Year!” They shouted, cheering, hugging each other, and clapping each other on the backs. Sombra gave Reaper a fist bump. Moira begrudgingly accepted a hug from her. Even Widowmaker managed a faint smile at them. Doomfist ushered them all together and convinced a fireman to take a photo of them, all together at the smouldering Detroit base for the last time. It wasn’t the best of times, and it sure wasn’t glamorous. But it was their time, and they had each other. And in the end, isn’t that all that matters?

Sombra looked at Doomfist, yelling and thoroughly intimidating a police officer who was talking to him for the umpteenth time. Widowmaker, who was tipsily stirring the drink she had managed to save from the fire. Moira, examining with interest the oozing burns on an agent’s arm. And Reaper, who saw her looking, and gave her a thumbs up, showing his phone screen saying “Purchase complete! Your flight leaves on January 3rd, 13:47.” Things weren’t going where she expected, and she never thought this was where she would end up. But yeah, everything was alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! It has been a while since I have posted fanfiction until I got into Overwatch, and it is so humbling to see people interested in reading my fics- even at times people who've never played Overwatch! I enjoyed writing this, and I hope I was able to bring out a smile or two. I am working on another fic with our beloved Sombra and Reaper, so if you enjoyed this I hope to see some of you around in the future! Thank you all again for sticking with me until the end!


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